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JP R E F A. C 

SOME years since I began to collect the 
materials, from which the following work is 
composed, not according to any predetermined 
plan of compilation, nor even with a serious 
design of presenting them to the public. But 
my collection was increased, as my reading was 
extended ; and I was induced to believe, that a 
General Dictionary of Women, who had been 
distinguished by their actions or talents, in va- 
rious nations, or at different periods of the world, 
digested under an alphabetical arrangement, 
which had never been done in our language, 
might meet with a favourable reception. 

Under this impression, I put forth, in the year 
1S01, proposals for publishing my projected 
work, in four volumes, octavo. But this inten- 
tion had not been long announced, before ad- 
vertisements appeared of another work being in 
the press, under a similar title. Not meaning 
to run a race with any other author, I desisted 
for a while from my undertaking. But when, 
upon the publication of that work, I found it 
to be rather a selection of historical extracts, 
than a digested compilation of Female Biogra- 

A 3 phy, 


pby, which it had been, and is now, my object 
to produce ; 1 resumed my original idea of pub- 
lishing, although upon a more contracted scale 
than 1 had before designed *. 

The book, which now, with much diffidence, 
I submit to the public judgement, must have 
many claims on their indulgence ; most, in those 
parts, certainly, where I have hazarded original 
criticism, or observation. For the rest, authen- 
ticity, and impartiality, have been my aim 
throughout, conceiving those principles to be of 
more consequence in a work of this kind, than 
ornamental writing. 

I have had communications and assistance 
from several friends, and have made liberal use 
of the aid afforded me in Le Dictlonnalre des 
Femmes C es : which, however, I had never 
seen till after the greatest part of my own ma- 
terials was collected ; and, in all such cases, 
I have, to avoid repetition, marked the articles 
with the initials F. C. only. To other quotations 
I have noted the authority more at length. 

Dec. 1803. 


. * In one instance alone, I undesigncdly extended the article 
to an undue length. 



ABASSA, an Arabian Princess of the Eighth Century, 

SlSTER of the famous Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid ; 
who thought so highly of-her wit, accomplishments, 
and heauty, that he lamented he was her brother, be- 
lieving no other husband could be found worthy of her. 
To sanction, however, a wish he_had of conversing, at 
the same time, with the two most enlightened people 
he knew, he married her to GiafFer, his visier, on con- 
dition, that they should see each other only in his pre- 
sence. This law they transgressed; and Abassa had a 
son, who was privately sent to Mecca. But the fatal 
secret remained not long unknown to the Ca!i}li, who 
was so transported with rage, that he ordered, not only 
the execution of Giaffer; but, that none might remain, 
who could boast an alliance with the blood of AH, of 
his whole family also, the amiable and beneficent Bar- 
mecides, whose death was long deplored as a public 

It is uncertain what befel Abassa: some say she \vas 
shut up in a dungeon, where she died of grief; others, 
that she was driven from the palace, and reduced to 
extreme want. Probability is in favour jof the first ac- 
count. Abassa had a fine poetical genius. 

F. C. Notes to the Knights of the Swan, by Madame Genlisl, &c. 

ACCA LAURENTIA, Nurse of Romulus and Remits + 
WIFE of the shepherd Faustulus, was deified by the 
Romans, who instituted a yearly sacrifice to her ho- 




fian Poetess. Died 1610. 

THE wife of a gentleman of Florence, who was no 
less celebrated for her attachment to polite literature, 
to which she devoted great part of her time, than for 
her virtue, exquisite beauty, and the fine taste which 
was conspicuous in her poetical works. Two volumes 
in quarto were published' at Florence in 1590, princi- 
pally consisting, according to the custom of the age, 
particularly in France and Italy, of poems in praise of 
the grjrnd duke and duchess. She left an unfinished 
epic poem, entitled David persecuted. 

F. C. 

1447- Died 1510. 

AUTHOR of two books of great repute, one on Pr- 
gatory, and the other, A Dialogue between the Soul 
and the Body, is said to have treated, in a very judi- 
cious manner, difficult theological subjects, "though 
not learned. She was of a good family, and the wife of 
M Genoese nobleman, whose strange temper she suffered 
rnany years with great patience. She was a religious 
enthusiast; and used to have fits, or ecstacies, in which 
she usually spoke in verse, though she never composed 
in it at other times : but, a taste for poetry, which made 
her frequently get passages by heart, uncertain health, 
and a too lively imagination", may easily account for 

\vhat then appeared miraculous. 

F, C. 

ADRICHOMIA, (CORNELIA) a Dutch Nun of the 

Sixteenth Century, 

DAUGHTER of a gentleman in Holland, and a nun 
of the order of St. Augustin. She distinguished herself 


by her talent for poetry, which she exercised only on re- 
ligious subjects j one of which was, A Version of the 
Psalms of David. 

Female Worthies, &c. 

APR A, Martyr in Crete, during the Dioclesian Persecu- 

A Pagan and courtezan, Afra had no sooner heard 
the gospel preached, than she was struck with horror 
at her past life. She confessed her sins, and was bap- 
tized ; but her former lovers, enraged that they could 
no longer obtain admission at her house, denounced 
"her as a Christian. She was examined, confessed her 
faith before the judge with firmness, and was burnt 
alive. Her mother and three servants, who had shared 
her crimes and her repentance, were arrested, as they 
watched at her tomb, and suffered the same punish- 

F. c. 


A Woman of the island of Corfu, whose knowledge is 
highly spoken of by ancient authors. She excelled prin- 
cipally in rhetoric and grammar. It is said she com- 
posed some treatises on these subjects. Meursius, ia 
his work on Grecian games, attributes the invention of 
a play at ball to her. 

F. C.'&c. 

AGATHA, a Sicilian Martyr, A. D. 251, 
WAS of a noble family at Palermo. Her beauty in- 
spired Quintals, governor of Sicily, under the emperor 
Decius, with the most violent love: and, being a Chris- 
tian, he employed not only intreaties, but menaces, to 
Seduce her ; till, wearied out by tire obstinacy of her 

B 2 virtue, 


virtue, he thought only of vengeance. Her body was 
cruelly mangled , and afterwards rolled on burning coals 
and broken potsherds. She was then carried back to die 
in prison : and her name is still ranked in the list of 
saints in the Roman calendar. 



CANONIZED in the Romish church, whose history 
is at present nearly lost in obscurity. Some particulars 
are, however, related, which bear much affinity to the 
preceding article. 

AGNES, Wife of Andrew HI. King of Hungary. Died 


THE daughter of Albert, emperor of Germany. She 
distinguished herself by her address and political abili- 
ties ; but appears to have had more of Machiavelian po- 
licy, thai) true greatness of mind. After the death of 
her father, she resided in Switzerland, where her linesse 
was of great service to her brother Albert II. with whom 
these people were at war. 



A Celebrated female mathematician, on whom a Pope, 
equally distinguished for his understanding and know- 
ledge, Benedict XIV. bestowed the place of Apostolical 
Professor, in the university of Bologna, in 1758. She 
was the daughter of a creditable tradesman in Milan, 
and famed for her knowledge of the scholastic lan- 
guages; and a profound treatise of analysis, which, be- 
sides eulogies, transmitted to her from all scientific so- 
cieties, obtained her the professorship. She had an in- 


clination, from her childhood, to enter into the austere 
order of the blue nuns ; and, after the death of her father, 
\vho was averse to it, pursued this intention, and sacri- 
ficed, to what, she considered her duty, all those enjoy- 
ments, to which her fine qualities and literary acquire- 
ments had already made her way. A translation of her 
work, by the name of Analytical Institutions y we have 
understood is speedily to be published. 

Observations sur Tltalie. 

AGREDA, (MARYDE) of Agreda, in Spain. Born 

1605, died 1065. 

SUPERIOR of a convent of nuns, founded by her mo- 
ther. She supposed herself commanded and inspired by 
God, to write the History of the Virgin Man/. She ac- 
cordingly began; but an enlightened confessor, who 
supplied the place of her own, during a short absence, 
desired her to desist, and burn what she had written. 
She obeyed ; but, on the return of the other, was per- 
suaded to re-commence the work; and, on her death, 
she gave a written attestation, that ail had been revealed 
to her by the Almighty. The Inquisition at Madrid, 
after mature consideration, permitted her books to be 
printed, which they were, first in that city, and after- 
wards at Lisbon, at Perpignan, and at Antwerp. With 
all their strange and wild conceits, they had influ- 
ence enough to disturb, for a long time, "the peace ojf 
three kingdoms, Spain, France, and Italy. The Inquisi- 
tion at Rome was not so favourable as "that at Madrid ; 
and this cause, in which the king of Spain interfered, 
without effect, was transferred to the Sorbonne, where 
the works of Mary de Agreda were finally condemned, 
notwithstanding the opposition of the head of the Je- 
suits, and the whole body of Cordeliers, who were strong 
partisans of this visionary. ' 

B 3 F. c- 



AGRIPPINA, a Roman Lady. Died A. D. 33. 

DAUGHTER of M. Vipsanius Agrippa, and of Ju- 
lia, daughter of Augustus, is famous for her pride, 
ambition, courage, and above all, for her fidelity and 
love to her husband Germanicus. Formed to be the 
wife of an hero, Agrippina accompanied him wherever 
he went, sharing his dangers and his toils. She was 
seen often at the head of armies, appeasing the seditious, 
encouraging the soldiers, and filling all the functions of 
the most able general. Germanicus dying in Spain, 
Agrippina, having shown her tenderness by her tears, 
attacked Piso, who was suspected of having poisoned 
him, forced him to destroy himself, and returned to 
Rome, bearing the ashes of her husband. in a sepulchral 
urn. Tiberius, who had been jealous of the glory of 
Germanicus, was pained 'by the high reputation of his 
widow, and banished her to the island of Pandatiere. 
Always proud, even in the bosom of misfortune, she 
reproached him to his face, with his injustice and cruel- 
ties. This tyrant commanded a centurion to strike the 
grand-daughter of Augustus, which was done with such 
violence, that she lost one of her eyes. Reduced to de- 
spair by this outrage, slie abstained from food, and died 
in the fifth year of her exile. The rage of Tiberius was 
not appeased by the death of Agrippina: he persecuted 
ker even in her children, and ordered the day of her birth 
to be numbered amidst the unhappy ones. 

F. C. Roman History. 

AGRIPPINA, (JULIA) the Younger, daughter of the 
preceding. Died A. D. 69 

WAS born in the city of the Ubii, from her called Colo- 
nia Agrippina, at present Cologne, and educated by her 
grandmother Antonia, who saw, with sorrow, the child- 
ren of Germanicus contaminated with the most odious 



"and horrible vices. With all the pride and ambition of 
her mother, Julia Agrippina inherited none of her good 
qualities; but,, unrestrained by any principle, .she em- 
ployed, without shame or remorse, every charm of per- 
son, and power of intellect, to the purpose of her ow* 
aggrandizement. She was married, first to DomiUus 
CEnobarbus, by whom she was mother of Nero: and, 
after his death, her irregular conduct was so notorious, 
that she suffered public penance, and was banished, by 
her brother Caligula, to the island of Pontia, on a charge 
of treason. On the succession of Claudius, the sentence 
was repealed, and she returned to Rome to pursue again 
her intrigues and cabals. She married, secondly, Cris- 
pus Passienus, a patrician of great wealth, which was 
soon all her own, as he lived but a very short time after 
their union. One object only now remained for her am- 
bition, the imperial crown; and she accordingly prac- 
tised so successfully upon the weakness of the emperor, 
that, though his niece, he married her, and in his name 
she held the reins of government. Claudius had a son; 
but Agrippina had one also, that she was determined 
should succeed him ; and, for this purpose she obtained 
every honour and advantage for Nero, while the other 
was kept back from any thing that might give him con- 
sequence, or gain him popularity. Claudius at length 
was made sensible of his situation, and of the more t)ian 
profligacy of her character; but he had ro power to free 
himself from her toils> and some words which were 
spoken by him unguardedly, when heated with wine, 
being reported to the empress, she thought it unsafe to 
spare him any longer, and he was accordingly poisoned 
by her orders. 

"Agrippina had attained the point for which she had 
waded through seas of blood and dishonour; and she 
now played her part with much policy. The death of 
Claudius was kept secret, and the young prince retained 
within the palace, .till Nero was proclaimed emperor. 
B 4 This 


This darling son seated upon, the throne, she still ex- 
pected to govern with the same sway ; but Nero, 
though at first, he treated her with great respect, soon 
learned to consider the consequence she assumed , as an 
Encroachment upon his authority. Notwithstanding her 
artifice, her threats, and remonstrances, Agrippina felt 
her influence gone. Her son took away her guards, and 
assigned her, instead of her magnificent palace, a mean 
house in the suburbs, where people were stationed to 
mortify and insult her. By the force of her natural elo- 
quence, she, however, contrived again to rise into fa- 
vour; but a reconciliation between hearts so depraved, 
who feared and knew each other, could not be lasting; 
and distrust soon created a wish in Nero to rid himself, 
by any means, of one whom he hated. 

He began, by affecting a more than common tender- 
ness, and invited her to his villa at Baiae, by a very kind 
letter, expecting she would have gone by sea, as a galley 
had been sent for the purpose, and so contrived, that 
the part appropriated to her accommodation might be 
separated from the other, and sunk at any given time. 
Some dark intimations' of danger, however, had put 
Agrippina upon her guard, and she went by land; but 
the honour he paid her, and the affection he showed 
during her visit, so lulled every suspicion, that she was 
persuaded, as it was a fine night, to return in the vessel 

Sleeping in a bed upon the poop, at a given signal, 
Agrippina, and a lady with her, began to sink gently 
into the waves, for the parts had not been adjusted 
nicely enough to perform their office properly; and 
many of the crew, riot knowing the intentions of the 
emperor, attempted to save them. Agrippina, whose 
presence of mind never deserted her, though dismayed, 
kept a profound silence; but the lady, from her crying 
.out, was mistaken for the empress, and killed by blows 
from one of the creatures of Anicetus, the commander of 



the galley. In the mean time her mistress, receiving no 
other hurt than a slight wound upon the shoulder, was 
taken up by a bark. 

In the midst of these suspicions and dangers, Agrip* 
pina forgot not her interest: she dispatched a messen- 
ger to inform the emperor of her safety, though she was 
at no loss to divine whence her peril had proceeded, and 
took measures to secure the fortune of the lady who had 
perished to herself, 

Nero, alarmed at the failure of his project, saw no 
safety for him, but in her immediate death, and dis- 
patched Ariicetus, with a written order for that purpose. 
His mother, uneasy at the non-appearance of her mes- 
senger, who was imprisoned by Nero, was in bed when 
her house was surrounded by the creatures of Anicetus, 
who proceeded, with three men, to her chamber, from 
whence her women fled , and she began to feel that her 
last hour was come. Yet still she thought it her inte- 
rest to dissemble. " If you come," said she, " to learn 
the state of my health, you may tell my son that I am 
~well ; but, if it be to murder me, I will never believe 
that he commanded it." 

As she finished these words, the assassins came round 
the bed, and one of them gave her a blow on the head 
with a truncheon ; and Agrippina, at length driven to 
despair, had no measures to keep and looking fiercely 
on Anicetus, who was preparing to destroy her with his 
sword, she cried, Strike this womb, and punish it for 
giving birth to thy master.' * 

Thus fell a woman whose life was one continued 
crime ; whom adversity did not either amend or terrify ; 
and whose evil genius was never lulled to sleep, even by 
the attainment of its purposes. 

F. C. Roman Historj. 

A Nun of Genoa, who learnt design and colouring 



of Sarezana. In her own monastery, and in several 
churches, she painted many admirable works. 

Abecedario PLttorico. 

AISHA, or AYESHA, third Wife of Mahomet. Died 
671, aged 67* 

THE daughter of Abdallah, afterwards caliph, from 
her named Abubeker, Father of the Girl ; since Maho- 
met, whose two first wives were widows, married her 
when she was very young; and, as she had a fine under- 
standing, caused- her to be instructed in all the learning 
of the Arabs, so that she became bo*h eloquent and ac- 
complished, and had such influence over the mind of her 
husband, that, though she was accused of infidelity by 
many, particularly by- AH, a kinsman of Mahomet's, and 
one whom he had distinguished by the name of the 
Faithful Witness, he would not resolve to part with her; 
but composed a chapter in the Koran, to declare her in- 
nocence, and assure his followers that all reports to the 
contrary were calumnies. 

Her authority was very great among the Mahometans. 
After the death of their" chief, they called her the Pro- 
phecess, and Mother of the Faithful. She was the living 
oracle of the sect, which consulted her in all difficult 
points, in order to learn what had been the sense of their 
legislator. Her answers were received as oracles, and 
have always passed since as authentic traditions amongst 
them. All those which compose their Surma, were, ac- 
cording to them, from Aisha, or from some one of the 
ten companions of Mahomet : but Aisha' s authority is 
esteemed the most authentic. 

With respect to the government of the state, she took 
upon herself to condemn the caliph Othman, of impiety ; 
though she afterwards made war with AH, whom she 
hud twice before disappointed of the caliphate, to re- 
venge his death, and marched against him at the head 
of thirty thousand men. She was, however, defeated, 



taken prisoner by All, and afterwards sent back by him 
to Medina, where she died, under the caliphate of Moa- 
wihah, and was buried with her husband. 

D'Herbelot's Dictionaire Orientale, &c. 

AISHA, a Native of Damas, who is honoured by Mus- 

sulmen with the title of Doctor, 

WROTE a book on the fear with which the mercies of 
God ought to inspire us. 


AISHA,' a Poetess of Spain, during the Time the 
Moors had Possession of that Kingdom, who flourished 
at the End of the Twelfth Century. 

AT this time, the Moors cultivated every species of 
polite literature with success, while the rest of Europe 
was sunk in ignorance and sloth. Amongst the women, 
who particularly distinguished themselves, was this lady, 
daughter of the duke Ahmedi, so that " she was ho- 
noured and esteemed by kings/* Her poems and ora- 
tions were frequently read with applause in the Roval 
Academy of Corduba. She was a virtuous character, 
lived unmarried, and left behind her many monuments 
other genius, and a large and select library. 

Bibliothecse Arabico Hispanis Escurialensis. 

ALANKAVA, Grand-daughter of the King of the Mon- 
gols, of the Dynasty of Kiat, ih Northern Asia, 

MARP.IED her cousin-german, Doujoun, who was then 
upon the throne, by whom she had t\vo sons. After the 
death of her husband, she governed her territories, and 
brought up her children with great prudence. A mira- 
culous history concerning this princess, which was pro- 
bably first invented to do honour to the great families 

B C descended 


descended from her, is believed in all these countries. 
As the leading features are taken from the birth of our 
bavjour, it might induce one to believe, that the northern 
nations formerly professed Christianity. 

Neyr Biographical Dictionary. F. C. 


WAS the daughter of a blacksmith ; and her mother 
was a female barber, by whom she was brought up a 
milliner. During the confinement of general Monk in the 
Tower, she officiated as his sempstress, and became first 
his mistress, and afterwards his wife. He had so high 
;m opinion of her understanding, that he consulted her in 
1 he most important concerns ; and, as she was a thorough 
loyalist, it is supposed she contributed greatly to bring 
about the Restoration. It is said, she afterwards carried 
on a very lucrative trade in selling offices. A bitter 
enemy to lord Clarendon, she prevailed on her husband 
to assist in the ruin of that great man, though one of his 
best friends. She was a woman of vulgar manners, 
homely person, and violent temper. 


ALBERT, (JANED') Daughter of Albert 1 1. King of 
Navarre, and Margaret de Valois. Died 1572, aged 

WAS contracted, while a child, to the duke of-Cleves, 
by her uncle, Francis I. king of Navarre ; but, as this 
marriage was disagreeable to the young princess, as 
well as to many of her friends, the Pope was after- 
wards prevailed upon to cancel it, though the ceremony 
had been 'performed. 

At twenty years of age, she was married to An- 
thony de Bourbon, duke de Vendome, by whom she had 



three softs. The two first dying in consequence of the 
improper management and carelessness of their nurses, 
the king of Navarre was anxious to take the charge of 
the last upon himself; and prevailed on his daughter, 
when her time drew near, to leave her husband, whom 
she had accompanied to the wars in Picardy, and return 
to him for this purpose. 

Jane had been long anxious .to see the will of her fa- 
ther. It was in a large gold box, on which was also a 
chain of gold, that would pass twenty or thirty times 
times round the neck. She asked him to grant her this 
favour; and he promised it, upon condition, that, on 
the birth of her infant, x she would sing a Bernese song. 
In the night of the 13th of December, 1553, Henry, af- 
terwards the IVth of France, was born, and Jane had 
resolution enough to fulfil her engagement, beginning a 
little hymn to the Virgin, as her father entered the room. 
The latter took the chain of gold from his neck, and gave 
her the box which contained his will, saying, " These 
are for you, my daughter; but this is mine!" putting 
the child unde/his robe, and carrying it to his chamber. 
On the death of Albert II. in 1555, she became queen 
of Navarre; and, in unison with her husband, showed 
all the countenance the spirit of the times would permit, 
to the reformed religion, which then began to gain 
ground. This predilection was, however, so apparent, 
that it gave great offence, particularly to the court of 
France, which they visited in 1558, to do away by their 
presence the impressions received against them. Yet, 
the conduct of Anthony did not favour this purpose: 
his zeal seemed daily to increase, till Jane, on whom 
the pleasures of the French court had made a great in> 
pression, remonstrated with him on his want of caution, 
and urged the sacrifices such a line of conduct might 
oblige them to make. 

He was not to be persuaded ; but the mind, which 
then worldly prudence could not influence, was after- 


wards seduced by ambition, and the deep policy of 
Catherine de Medicis. This weak prince, after openly 
breaking with the French court, declaring for the Pro- 
testants, and putting himself at their head, was led, by 
visionary prospects of advantage, to desert their cause, 
and join with their persecutors. 

The zeal of Jane had once suffered a temporary re- 
laxation, but the fascination of pleasure seemed to expire 
with its novelty, and she was no longer inclined to tem- 
porize, much less abjure, her opinions. She resisted all 
the entreaties of her husband; but his injurious treat- 
ment in consequence, soon obliged her to leave him in 
France, where they then were, and return to her native 
country. Anthony survived but two years, dying in 
1502, after recanting his recantation, and declaring, that 
were his life spared, he would further the Protestant in- 
terest with more fervour than ever. 

The faith and views of Jane were now decided and 
understood. She provided for the safety of her king- 
dom, she put her son under the care of a Huguenot 
professor, and adopted the most vigorous means to pre- 
serve her authority against the insurrections of her Ca- 
tholic subjects, and the menaces of the court of Rome, 
before which, in 1563, she was in vain cited to appear. 

She declared herself, in 15(56, the protectress of the 
Protestants, and went to Roche) le, where she devoted 
her son to the defence of the reformed religion, and caused 
medals to be struck, with these words, a safe peace, a 
complete victory, a glorious death! She did every thing 
in her power for the advancement of the cause of religious 
liberty; and used to say, that liberty of conscience ought 
to be preferred before hojiours, dignities, and life itself/ 
She caused the New Testament, the Catechism, and the 
Liturgy of Gtneva, to be translated and printed at Ro- 
chelle She abolished popery, and established protestan- 
tism in her own dominions. In her leisure hours, she 
expressed her zeal by working tapestries with her own 


hands, in which she represented the monuments of that 
religious liberty she sought to establish. One suit con- 
sisted of twelve pieces: on each was represented some 
Scripture history of deliverance. Israel's coming out of 
Egypt; Joseph's release from 'prison, or something of 
the like kind. On the top of each were these words, 
Where the spirit is, there is liberty! and, in the corners, 
broken chains, fetters, and gibbets. They w r ere worked in 
fashionable patterns ; and dextrously directed the needles 
of the ladies to help forward the reformation. Brave 
and eloquent, Jane neglected nothing that heroism or 
prudence could dictate. Her jew r els were mortgaged, 
without reluctance, for the support of the troops ; and 
a peace, very advantageous to the Protestants, was con- 
cluded in 15?0. 

The court of France then proposed a marriage between 
Charles the IXth's sister and the young prince, Henry, 
and pretended that they were going to w 7 ar with Spain, 
the implacable enemy of Jane d' Albert. These mea- 
sures were enforced with the appearance of so much sin- 
cerity, that the queen, who long continued doubtful and 
suspicious, at length yielded, and prepared for the jour- 
ney to Paris, in May 1572. Her reception was kind and 
gracious in the extreme; but, after an illness of five 
days, she died on June 10th, 1572, thus escaping the im- 
pending horrors of St. Bartholomew, which proved fatal 
to many of her best friends. At first, she was thought 
to have been poisoned ; but on" opening her body, no- 
thing was found to corroborate the suspicion. 

This princess left many writings, both in prose and 
verse. The greatness of her mind and talents have been 
acknowledged even by her enemies ; and the Protestant 
religion has seldom had so firm and conscientious a 
friend . The character and fate of her son is well known . 
She left, likewise, a daughter, who inherited her mo- 
ther's heart and talents, and continued faithful to the 
religion in which she had been instructed. 



red to be buried , wit! 

Letters of St. Foix; New Biog. Diet. &c, 

Jane d' Albert desired to be buried, without pomp, in 
the tomb of her father. 

ALDRUDE, Countess ofBertinoro, inRamagna, on Ita- 
lian Heroine of the Twelfth Century , 

OF a noble family, the Frangipani, originally from Rome. 
Aldrude is celebrated for her magnanimity, wit, and po- 
liteness. Beautiful and majestic in her person, her mind 
seems to have united greatness with elegance; but those 
qualifications might have remained unknown, had it not 
been for the exertions she made in favour of the dis- 
tressed inhabitants of Ancona. 

This city, situated upon the Adriatic Sea, had fre- 
quently changed masters; but, about the middle of the 
twelfth century, it became, we know not how, a sort of 
free republic, under the protection of the Greek empe- 
rors, who had a commissary, and, without doubt, some 
troops, resident there. Being on the sea-coast, the pos- 
session of it was of importance, as it afforded them en- 
trance into Italy, where their jealousy of the German 
emperors, against whom the little states were always 
revolting, led them to desire a footing. The citizens of 
Ancona were able -seamen, and encroached materially 
on the trade of Venice. In July, 1167, Frederic I. 
who knew the cabals of the court of Constantinople 
against him, undertook the siege of this city; but, hav- 
ing an open sea, and encouraged by the Greeks, the in- 
habitants made so brave a defence, that the emperor was 
glad to make peace with them, and raise the siege a few 
days after. 

The same subjects t>f discontent remaining in 117^, 
the Venetians agixed to unite (heir naval powers, with 
the torces of the emperor Frederic, under the command 
of the archbishop of Mayence, his lieutenant-general in 



Italy : the former prevented any thing entering or going 
out; and the latter blockaded it very closely by land. 
The inhabitants defended themselves vety bravely; but, 
were reduced to such an extremity by famine, that they 
at length $ent deputies to the archbishop, offering him 
an immense sum to raise the siege ; but he refused them , 
with insult, saying, " It would be folly to accept a part, 
when the whole was in his power." The deputies made 
him a spirited reply ; but returned disheartened to the 
city. In the consultations which followed, some were 
for submitting unconditionally, as was demanded ; and 
others preferred dying sword in hand. An old man, who 
had lived more than a century, re-animated their courage, 
by proposing the employment of their treasures in pro- 
curing succours from the neighbouring princes : and 
then, if their a;; plications proved fruitless, he advised 
them to throw ih-jir riclie-5 into the sea, and sell their 
lives as dear as possible. 

Deputies were accordingly sent, by some stratagem, 
through the Venetian fleet, to William degli Adelaixli, 
of Ferrara, and the Countess of Bertinoro, who engaged 
in the cause, with all that zeal and alacrity, which ani- 
jrtates generous minds to aid the distressed. 

The archbishop, alarmed at the succours he heard were 
preparing for the besieged, caused letters, as if from their 
deputies, to be thrown into the city, saying, ~they had 
bad success in their negotiations ; and, that they must 
expect no help, Some of the most enlightened of the 
inhabitants detected the forgery, and calmed the anxious 
minds of the affrighted populace, by solemnly assuring 
them they were false. 

In the mean time, through many difficulties and in- 
terruptions, the troops of the countess Aldrude, and of 
William. Ad elardi, advanced, preceded by a standard of 
cloth of gold. They were composed of twelve squad- 
rons, each of two hundred choice men ; and an innume- 
rable multitude of regular and light infantry. They 
encamped upon a hill, not far from the Archbishop; 



and when it was night, William ordered his men to 
place two or more lighted candles at the tops of their 
pikes and lances. Alarmed, hy this means, with the 
idea, that their number was immense, the Archbishop 
drew back a little from the city, to secure a height, that 
nature had rendered very strong. 

William harangued his army, who heard him with 
loud applause; and, at the close of his speech, Aldrude 
also came forward, and addressed them as follows: 

' ( Encouraged and fortified by the favour and mercy 
of heaven, I have resolved, contrary to the general usage 
of women, to speak to you here, because I hope to say 
something that may be useful, though unadorned with 
the figures of eloquence, and the reasonings of philoso- 
phy. It often happens, that a simple discourse acts upon 
the mind, when one more laboured merely pleases the 
ear. It is neither a love of power, or worldly advantage, 
which has led me here. Since the death of my husband, 
I reign with an aching heart, over all his domains, with- 
out any contest. It is enough for me to keep what I 
possess. What animates me, is the miserable situation 
of Ancona; the tears of its ladies, who fear to fall into 
the power of the besiegers. Need I enter into the detail? 
It is to succour men, worn by famine, fatigued by fre- 
quent combats, exposed constantly to new toils, to new 
dangers, that I come, with my only son, who, though a 
child, inherits his father's greatness of soul, and shews 
the same courage and the same zeal for the protection 
and defence of his friends. And you, warriors of Lom- 
bardy and Romagna, who are no less distinguished for 
\^>ur fidelity than your valour, the same cause brings you 
here. You obey the orders, and imitate the example of 
William Adelardi, who, listening only to his natural ge- 
nerosity, and love of freedom, has hazarded his own for- 
tune, and that of his friends and vassals, for the deliver- 
ance of Ancona, I know not how to praise him as I 
ought, because language is not equal to the expression 



of our thoughts and wishes! We become truly virtuous, 
only when we prize virtue more than wealth and ho- 
nour! This glorous enterprise has, as yet, succeeded, 
since you have passed through countries occupied by 
your'enemies. But, it is now time that the seed should 
produce fruit. It is time to 'make a trial of your strength, 
since you have occasion to make a trial of your courage. 
Hence, then, without delay, which enfeebles the minds 
of most men. Be under arms at the first break of day; 
so that the rising sun may beam upon the victory, which 
the Most High , promises to your charity. May my 
prayers draw down a blessing upon you ; and, may the 
sight of those beautiful ladies who accompany me, ani- 
mate you ! If knights are accustomed to display their 
skill and strength, in cruel combats, for pleasure only; 
if they expose their lives in honour of scarce- remembered 
beauty ; how much more ought you to make efforts for 
the victory! you, who by the motive of your enterprise 
alone, augment the glory of your name, and acquire the 
esteem of the world? Let not your hands, then, spare 
the rebels! Be your s \yords bathed in the blood of those 
who resist! Indulgence is not for those, who, whilst 
they can do evil, will not pardon!*' 

" This discourse," says the historian of Aldrude, 
" made the battalions flourish like a lily: they shouted 
with joy, and danced to the sound of trumpets and tam- 

No battle, however, was fought. The Archbishop 
fled during the night, and all the city came to render 
thanks to Aldrude and William, and to offer them the 
most magnificent presents. 

The Countess returned, with her guards, to her do- 
mains, meeting many detachments of the enemy upon 
the road, with whom they had skirmishes ; but her 
party always overcame. 

F. C. 



ALEXANDRA, Queen of the Jews, Wife of Alexander 
Jaimeus, second King of the Jews, of the Asmoncan or 
Maccabcan Race. Died, before Christ, 70. 

WHEN this king, who had a bloody and turbulent 
reign, was near death, Alexandra came weeping to him, 
lamenting the situation of herself and children, exposed, 
unprotected, to the hatred of the people, who bore so 
much ill-will towards him. He counselled her to keep 
his death secret, till she had secured the ic' tress; and, 
then to go to Jerusalem in triumph, as it were upon a 
victory ; to pay court to the Pharisees, his h : tter ene- 
mies, who had so much influence over the peoj !e, and 
whom he acknowledged he had injured ; and, promise 
to undertake nothing without their advice. He advised 
her, also, to render up his body to them, either to be 
treated with indignity, or otherwise, as they should 
think fit: in which case, he assured her he should ob- 
tain a more glorious sepulture than she could give him x ; 
and herself, to whom lie left the government, and child- 
ren, would be happy and secure. 

Alexandra pursued this counsel, and all succeeded 
as he had foretold. She had ever appeared averse to 
the severities of her husband, and therefore easily 
obtained favour with the people. Her eldest son, 
Hyrcanus, was inactive, and little formed for reigning; 
him she made high-priest: but the Pharisees, under 
her, had all the power of the state; and sometimes 
urged her to revenge them upon the advisers of her late 
husband, who, on their part, thought themselves ag- 
g;rieved at the little favour shown them. Her younger 
son, Aristobulus, a bold and spirited man, also mur- 
mured loudly against her authority, wishing rather 
to be called to the throne himself. Alexandra appears 
to have managed these untoward circumstances in the 
most prudent and conciliatory manner; and to have 



used every wise precaution to preserve the nation in 
safety against foreign enemies. 

Being a very old woman, she fell into a fit of sickness ; 
during which, Aristobulus, resolving to secure the go- 
vernment, stole away secretly by night, and possessed 
himself, one by one, of the strongest fortresses, which 
were held by the enemies of the Pharisees, and former 
friends of his father. Alexandra, at first missing him, 
did not suspect his intentions ; but they soon became too 
evident to be mistaken; and, after securing his wife 
and children in a fortress in the city, Hyrcanus, and 
the elders of the Jews, waited upon Alexandra, desiring 
she would give them her~opinion on the present pos- 
ture of affairs, stating that Aristobulus was, in effect, 
lord of the kingdom, by possessing so many strong holds ; 
and, that it was absurd in them to take counsel among 
themselves, on the impending danger, however ill she 
was, while she remained alive. The poor old queen de- 
sired them to do what they thought best. They had 
yet an army, and money in their several treasuries. For 
her part, she had little concern about public affairs now, 
when her strength was nearly exhausted. She died soon 
after she said this, aged seventy- three. She reigned nine 
years and had preserved the nation in peace, though 
Josephus, who allows her great wisdom and sagacity in 
governing, thinks her management conduced to occasion 
the troubles which followed her death; but, to this pe- 
riod of the Jewish history, tranquillity appears to have 
been almost a stranger; and the address of softening the 
the horrors of faction, for a time, appears to be justly 
attributed to Alexandra. 

Antiquities of the Jews, &c. 



ALICE, Queen of France, Wife of Louis VII. surnamcd 

the Young, third Daughter of Thibaut the Great, 

Count of ^Champagne, $c. Died 1206. 

THIS princess receiving a careful education in the 
magnificent court of her father, and possessing the natu- 
ral qualifications of beauty, good-nature, wit, and a 
fondness for poetry, in which consisted great part of the 
literature of that age, was much extolled for those ad- 
vantages ; and , independent of allying himself with Thi- 
baut, whom he had found a powerful enemy, and thus 
detaching him from the interest of the English, already 
too potent in France, Louis the Vllth, on the death of 
his second wife, in 1160, saw none equal to Alice in 
personal charms and character; and accordingly de- 
manded her of her father, who, with his family and 
nobles, repaired immediately to the court of France, 
where, soon after, the nuptials were celebrated with 
great magnificence; and, to cement the union more 
strongly, two daughters of the king by his first wife, 
were marrkd /UFO to the two elder sons of the count. 

Four years -afterwards, in 1165, she had a son, after- 
wards Philip- Augustus, to the great joy of Lewis, and 
the nation in general. Tenderly beloved by her hus- 
band, whose ill health rendered him unequal to the du- 
ties of his station, Alice not only assisted him in con- 
ducting the affairs of the nation, but superintended, 
with affectionate zeal, the education of her son, who 
afterwards became one of the greatest of the French mo- 
narchs. Lewis died in 1180, having appointed Alice 
to the regency ; but the young prince being married to 
Isabella, of Hainault, niece to the earl of Flanders, the 
authority was balanced between them, and produced 
frequent disputes. Philip, at last having sided with 
the earl, Alice and her brothers were obliged to leave 
the court. She. had recourse to Henry II. of England, 
\v!>o scrupled not to take part with the mother of one 
that was continually spiriting his sons to acts of rebellion 



against him. Philip marched against his mother, his 
uncles, and their protector; hut Henry was unwilling 
to give him battle, and negotiations began, in which the 
two kings mutually menaceji and persuaded. Henry, 
at last, notwithstanding the advice of the earl of Flan- 
ders, reconciled Philip to his mother and her brothers. 
He also agreed to pay her sept-Ik res Parisis, (five shil- 
lings and ten pence English) per day, for her mainte- 
nance ; and to give up her dower, with the exception 
only of the fortified places* 

This intelligence being established between them, 
Alice began again to take an active part in the govern- 
ment ; and her son was so well satisfied with her con- 
duct, that, in 1190, on going to the Holy Land, he con- 
fided, by the advice of JFiis barons, the education of his 
son, and the regency of the kingdom, to Alice and her 
"brother, the cardinal archbishop of Rheims. 

During the absence of the king, some ecclesiastical 
disturbances happened, which were carried before the 
pope., * The prerogative of Philip was concerned ; and 
the letters of Alice to Rome concerning it, were full of 
force and grandeur, She remonstrated upon the enor- 
mity of taking advantage of an absence caused by such 
a motive; and demanded, that things should at least 
be left in the same situation, till the return of her son. 
By this firmness she obtained her point. 

Philip returned in 11P2; and history takes no other 
notice of Alice afterwards, than to mention some reli- 
gious foundations. She died at Paris, and was buried 
at the abbey de Pontigny, founded by her father. 

F. C. Histoire de la Rivalite, par M. Gaillard. 


A Provencal Poetess, born at Ghateauneuf. 



ALOARA, an Italian Princess. Died 992. 

DAUGHTER of a count named Peter, of whom his- 
tory makes no other mention, than that he was her fa- 
ther. She was married to Pandulph, surnamed Iron- 
head, who stiled himself prince, duke, and marquis. 
He was, in reality, prince of Capua and Benevento, by 
inheritance; and the emperor Otho II, created him duke 
of Spolito, and marquis Camerino, which rendered him 
the most potent prince then in Italy. He died at Capua, 
in 981, leaving five sons by Aloara, Landulph IV, prince 
of Capua and Benevento; Pandulph, prince of Salerno ; 
Atenulph, entitled count, and also marquis, perhaps of 
Camerino; Landenulph, prince of Capua; and Lai- 
dulph, who succeeded him. 

Landulph IV. perished in battle, fighting for the em- 
peror, in 982, against the Greeks and Saracens. His 
brother Landenulph succeeded him ; but, being very 
young, Otho, in investing him with the principality of 
Capua, desired Aloara might govern during her life 
conjointly with him. This decree was also confirmed 
by Theophania, widow of Otho, and regent, during the 
minority of Otho III. Aloara began to reign in 982. 
History relates no particular actions of this princess ; but 
says she governed with much wisdom and courage. 

Landenulph was assassinated by a plot of his own re- 
lations, in 993 ; and his brother Laidulph, who suc- 
ceeded, was deposed by the emperor Otho III, in 999, 
for having a hand in the death of his brother. 

It is reported, by an old historian in the life of St. Nil, 
that Aloara put to death a nephew, lest he should wrest 
the principality from her son; and, that St. Nil then 
predicted the failure of her posterity. 


ALPHAIZULI, (MARIA) Poetess of Seville, during 
the Time the Moors had Possession of Spain. 

SHB was called the Arabian Sappho ; and excellent 



works of her composition are in the library of the Escu- 
rial. Many Spanish women, her cotemporaries, particu- 
larly in the province of Andalusia, cultivated the Muses 

with success. 

F. c. 

ALPIS, or ALPAIS, (DE CUDOT) a pious French 
Woman, who flourished in the Diocese of Sens, at the 
End of the Tvelfth Century. 

THIS young woman is mentioned in L'Histoire Lit- 
teraire de la France, as having^ in a sort of vision or 
ecstacy, an idea of the form of the globe, similar to those 
of late geographers. She reported, that she saw the 
whole world as one compact body. The sun appeared 
larger to her than the earth, which hung like an egg 
suspended in the middle of the air, and was on all sides 
surrounded with water. This idea, which perhaps 
some simple observation first gave rise to in the mind of 
Alpis, served not in the least to rectify the false opinions 
which then prevailed, or give rise to any doubts or 
research. It was most likely considered by the wise as 
merely the dream of a visionary. 

F. c. 


Poetess. Died 160(3. 

THE family of this lady was originally of Florence ; 
but she was born at Marseilles, and christened by that 
name. She rendered herself famous by her learning and 
poetical abilities, so that she is considered one of the or- 
naments of the sixteenth century. 

F. c. 

AMAGIA, Queen of the Sarmatians. 
MtDOSAC, her husband, being entirely given up to 
luxury and' indolence, the affairs of the state, in which 
h i-ook no interest, fell into the, greatest disor< 7 

C Alj; 


A magia took upon herself the cares of government. She 
gave public audience ; went herself to supply with 
troops the outposts, which defended the kingdom; re- 
pulsed the incursions of their enemies; and even suc- 
coured her neighbours, when they were oppressed. 

Slie interfered successfully in. the disputes of the 
petty principalities, with which the Scythian Cherso- 
nesus abounded. Her plans were laid with wisdom, 
and executed with vigour and expedition. She appears 
to have had justice always in view, but not to have 
tempered it sufficiently with mercv. 

F. c. 

AMALASUNTHA, Daughter of Theodoric, King of the 

Goths, in Italy, and Wife of Eutliaric , an Ostrogoth. 

Married in 515, died 534. 

NOT having any son, her father married her to Eu- 
tharic, an Ostrogoth, as he disliked subjecting his peo- 
ple to the dominion of a foreigner. She became a widow 
before the death of Theodoric, which happened in 526, 
and w r as left regent during the minority of her son Atha- 
laric, then eight years old, of whom she undertook the 
tuition, gave him a Roman education, and endeavoured, 
in vain, to render him worthy of his situation. He pro- 
fited nothing by her example and instruction, but gave 
himself up to luxury and dissipation, and died attheageof 
sixteen. Amalasuntha then raised her cousin, Theodotus, 
to the throne, who repaid her benefits with the blackest 
ingratitude; imprisoned, and then caused her to be put 
to death, or, as others say, strangled her with his own 
hands. The death of Amalasuntha was revenged by the 
emperor Justinian, who sent his general, Belisarius, 
against the murderer, and destroyed the power of the 
Goths in Italy. 

Amalasuntha was a most enlightened and excellent 
princess; a protector of the arts and sciences. She not 
only possessed the qualities necessary to support an ad- 
-ministration beneficial to the people; but also those 



that would contribute to make it brilliant and glorious 
to herself. She was well instructed in philosophy, knew 
perfectly the Greek and Latin, and spoke also the lan- 
guages of the different people who composed the Roman 

Respect for the memory of her father had given A ma- 
lasuntha great authority with the Goths ; and her in- 
trinsic merit and personal accomplishments, made a na- 
tion proud and delicate in point of honour, glory in obey- 
ing her. Her majestic exterior, announced the elevation 
of her soul. Her understanding was lively and pene- 
trating, but firm and moderate ; and her natural 
powers had been cultivated by a masculine and serious 
education. She spoke little, but her words were full of 
meaning. Active, yet always tranquil, she quietly ter- 
minated the most important affairs ; and the impenetrable 
secresy she observed, gave her leisure to remove obsta- 
cles, and insure the success of her designs. Affable, li- 
beral, faithful to her promises, she won the hearts of her 
admiring people. By her prudence, she pacified the east- 
ern emperor, who had been offended, and maintained 
concord between the Goths and Romans, whom she im- 
partially governed ; and, as long as Athalaric was 
guided by her counsels, happiness and prosperity reigned - 
ia his kingdom. 

This princess lamented the cruel fate of the learned 
Boetius, beheaded by her father. She expressed thfi ut- 
most respect for his memory; and, to make all the atone- 
ment in her power, for the injuries he had sustained, 
she caused his statue, which had been thrown down at 
Rome, to be again erected ; and all his possessions re- 
stored to his heirs. 

Histoire clu Bas Empire, par Pere le Beau. c. 



DUCHESS D',) a Neapolitan Poetess of the Sixteenth 

WAS of the same noble family with the husband of 
Victoria Colonna, Marchioness de Pescara, with whose 
poems her's are usually bound. She was celebrated by 
all the learned men of the age ; and, though few of her 
works remain, those confessedly place her in a high rank 
amidst the Italian lyrists. Her muse was grave, but 
ingenious; and her piety is eveiy where conspicuous in 
her works, as it is said to have been also in an exemplary- 



the Cumean Sybil. 

IN the year of Rome, 219, 535 years before Christ, 
an old woman presented Tarquin the Proud nine books, 
which, she said, concerned the future destiny of Rome, 
and asked three hundred golden crowns for them. The 
king treated her . demand with contempt; on which 
she burnt three before him. Some days after, she 
returned, and offered him the six which remained, 
for the same sum she had demanded for the whole; and, 
on his refusal, burnt three more. Surprised at her 
behaviour, he asked what she would have for those 
which were left ; but she would not abate her first price. 
Not knowing what to do, he consulted the pontifs, who 
advised him to pay her the three hundred crowns. These 
books were held in such veneration by the Romans, that 
two magistrates were appointed to keep and consult 
them upon all extraordinary occasions, such as public 
calamities or necessities, when they acted as these sa- 
cred volumes appeared to advise them. 

From fragments which remain, and from the use 
which Virgil made of them in his Pollio, it is evident, 
that they predicted the birth of our Saviour ; but, 



whether they were merely the work of human fraud and 
ingenuity, and borrowed this striking prophecy from 
the Hebrews; or that the evil spirits, deluding the world 
so many ages by lying oracles, were obliged thus to fofe- 
tel their own destruction, has been a doubt with the 

A work called the Sybilline Oracles, was published at 
Amsterdam, in 1(589 ; but is believed to i>e spurious. 

New Biographical Dictionary. F. C. &c. 

AMBOISE, (FRANCES D',) Duchess of Brittany, 
Daughter of Lewis d'Amboise, Viscount de Thouars, 
and Prince ofTalmond. Died 1485. 

WAS brought up at the court of Brittany, and mar- 
ried to Peter, brother to the reigning duke, a man of 
a violent and jealous temper ; but the heroic patienc^ 
and gentleness of the duchess, at length made him 
ashamed of the excesses into which his passions tran- 
sported him ; he demanded pardon for his injustice, and 
they ever after lived perfectly happy. 

Some time after their reconciliation, the death of his 
brother called Peter II. to the throne. Frances used her 
influence and authority only for the happiness of the 
people. The reform of luxury in dress, was the first 
object of her attention. She herself practised the most 
perfect simplicity; and the ladies of the court following 
her example, it soon spread through all ranks. The 
Duke wished to profit by this economy of his subjects, 
to impose new taxes; but the duchess persuaded him to 
relinquish the design. She engaged him to solicit the 
canonization of Vincent Ferrier, who was called the 
Apostle of Brittany ; and to erect a house in the city of 
Nantes, for the nuns of the order of St. Clair. 

While this house was building, the duke fell danger- 
ously ill, of a malady to which the physicians could give 
no name. Ignorance attributed it to some magician, 

c 3 who 


who, gained by his enemies, had reduced him to this 
situation. The greater part of the courtiers said, a 
more able sorcerer should be sought, to counteract the 
charms of the first; but, whether the good sense of the 
duchess led her to disbelieve the efficacy of this expe- 
dient, or her piety revolted from using unlawful means, 
for the attainment of any purpose, however desirable, 
she refused to comply. 

The duke expired in her arms, in October, 1457, 
after having reigned seven years. Arthur, his successor, 
wanted to deprive her of her dowry, and caused her 
many unpleasant embarrassments. To ensure her a pro- 
tector, her father was anxious to engage her in a second 
marriage, with the prince of Savoy ; and the king, 
(Louis II.) and queen of France, took the most lively in- 
terest in the aftair : but, neither their solicitations, nor 
those of her father, could overcome the resolution she 
had formed, of living in perpetual widowhood; and, at 
length, to put an end not only to their entreaties, but 
to their well-meant though ineffectual constraint, she re- 
tired into a convent, near Vannes, and took the habit of 

u Carmelite. 

F. c. 

Poetess. Born at Urbino, 1513, died at Florence, 
November, 1589, aged 76. 

DAUGHTER of John Anthony Battiferri, and wife of 
Bartholomew A?nmanati, a celebrated sculptor and ar- 
chitect, of Florence. She applied herself all her life to 
the study of philosophy and -polite literature; and culti- 
vated Italian poetry with so rniich success, that she is 
esteemed one of the best poc-ts of the sixteenth century. 
Her translations of the Penitential Psalms, in odes; the 
Prayer of Jeremiah, in blank verse; and a hymn on the 
Glortf of Paradise, written originally by Peter Damien, 
arid falsely attributed to St. Augustin, are the most ge- 


nerally approved by men of letters, and especially by 
Annibal Caro, and Bernard Tasso, father of the famous 
Tasso, who speaks very highly of her in his Amadis. 
Her works are distinguished by a noble and elevated 
stile; by the excellence of the morality, and the spirit of 
piety which pervades them. Her death was regretted 
by all who loved the fine arts, and particularly by the 
court of Tuscany, where she was highly esteemed. The 
Academy of the Intronati, at Sienna, chose her for one of 
their members; and the famous German painter, Ans d* 
A ken, requested permission to take a portrait of her, that 
he might carry a copy back to his own country, and 
make a lady known to it, whose praises were celebrated 
throughout Italy. A. collection of her poerns were 
printed, first at Florence, and then at Naples, in 1694. 


ANACOANA, Queen of Maguana, and Wife of Carna*, 
bo, the most powerful King in the Island of St. Do- 

WAS a princess of great understanding, and highly 
favourable to the Spaniards, whose superior intelligence 
and knowledge she unfortunately too highly appreciated. 
On the death of her husband, she retired into the domi- 
nions of her brother, the king of Xiragua. Bartholomew 
Columbus, brother of the celebrated Christopher, pro- 
fited of the partiality of this princess, to conciliate her 
brother, hitherto unfavourable, till he consented to % re- 
ceive them as friends, and pay a tribute of cotton and 
provisions, the produce of the country. 

On the death of her brother, in 1503, without child- 
ren, Anacoana was called to the throne. Her opinion 
of the Spaniards was entirely changed. She had seen 
their ingratitude and selfishness; and, becoming mis- 
trustful of her, they resolved, by any means, to get her 
into their power. For this purpose, they accused* her 
to Ovando, the governor-general, as meditating treason ; 

c 4 and., 


and not to lose any time, he went directly from the town 
of St. Domingo to Xiragua, with a formidable suite. Ana- 
coana suspected no evil ; and in order to do him more 
honour, assembled her vassals, and marched at their 
head, to meet him. These poor people danced, in the 
fashion of their country, and shouted for joy at the arrival 
of the Spanish general. He was conducted to the palace, 
in the midst of acclamations, and feasted there many 

During this time, an act of the most atrocious perfidy 
was meditated. Ovando invited the queen to a feast 
after the European manner; and, accompanied by all 
her nobility, she came to it on the following Sunday. 
They were introduced into a hall, where it was to be 
celebrated, and waited there some time before the Spa- 
niards arrived, who at length made their appearance, in 
battle array. The infantry invested all the avenues of the 
place; Ovando, at the head of his cavalry, surrounded 
the house in which the queen was; and a multitude of 
Indians, whom curiosity had induced to follow their 
queen, were slain by the foot soldiers. After this mas- 
sacre, the cavaliers dismounted, and entered the hall 
with drawn swords. The caciques and principal men 
M ere tied. to posts, the house set fire to, and all consumed 
in the flames. Anacoana was loaded with chains, and 
carried to St. Domingo; her process was soon made out, 
and she \\as buns; publicly as a rebel. 

F. c. 


DAUGHTER of Nealces, a Grecian painter, who stu- 
died under her father, and became an artist of some 

ANASTASIA, a Christian Martyr, at Rome, in the 
Dioclesian Persecution, 

WAS born in that city, of Pretextat, a Pagan, and a 



Christian woman, named Fausta, who instructed her in 
the principles of her own religion. After the death of 
her mother, she was married to Publius Patricius, a 
Roman knight, who obtained a rich patrimony with her; 
but no sooner discovered her to be a Christian, than he 
treated her harshly, keeping her confined, and almost 
in want of necessaries, while he lavished the wealth he 
had received with her in luxury and extravagance. 

On his death, in the course of a few years, Anastasia 
gave herselfmore ^eely to the study of the Holy Scrip- 
tures, which had always been her delight, and to works 
of charity. Her fortune, though very large, scarcely 
sufficed for the relief of the poor, and the confessors of 
Christianity, by whom the prisons were at that time 
filled . 

Her retired manner of life, and her charities, soon led 
to a suspicion of her religion. She, and three of her fe- 
male servants, sisters, were arrested by the officers of the 
emperor, who wanted to make them sacrifice to idols. 
This they constantly refused to do; on which the three 
sisters were put to death upon the spot, and Anastasia 
conducted to prison. She was then exiled to the island 
of Palnaaria ; but soon afterwards brought back to Rome, 
and burnt alive. Her remains were buried in her garden, 
by a Christian, named Apollonia, and a church after- 
wards built upon the spot. 

ANCHITA, wife of Cleombrotus, King of Sparta. 

WHOSE love for her country, and hatred of treason 
manifested themselves in opposition to the sentiments 
of nature. Her son Pausanias, who had distinguished 
himself so nobly at the battle of Plataea, afterwards, by 
his arrogant and foolish con duct, disgusted his country- 
men; whom he also agreed to betray to the kino; "of 
Persia, on condition of receiving the daughter of that 
monarch in marriage. His correspondence .-.ein.^ disco- 
vered, he fled to the temple of Minerva, ior reiiige ; from 

c 5 whence 


whence it was not lawful to force him, though con- 
demned to death by the Ephori. His pursuers, there- 
fore, contrived to block up the doors with stones; the 
h'rst of which, in the proud anguish of a Spartan mo- 
ther, was laid there by Anchita. In this manner, Pau- 
sanias perished with hunger, about 471 years before 


Lady of great Learning and Beauty in the Fifteenth 

JEAN Andre, her father, caused her to be instructed 
with the greatest care in every branch of polite litera- 
ture; and afterwards made her study law, in which she 
made such great progress, that, when any thing hap- 
pened to prevent his giving a lesson to his pupils, 
he sent her to supply his place. As he feared that her 
youth and beauty might distract the attention of her au- 
ditors, she was concealed from them by a curtain. To 
do honour to the name of his daughter and her mother, 
Andre published, under the title of Novella, his commen- 
tary upon the decretals of Gregory IX. She was given 
by him in marriage to John Calderini, a learned professor 
of the canon law. 

ANDREINI, (ISABELLA) an excellent Italian Ac- 
tress, of great poetical Abilities. Born at Padua, 
J5G2, died at Lyons, 1604. 

THIS lady was the wife of Francis Andreini, an Ita- 
lian comedian and poet, though not so celebrated in 
either character as his wife, towards whom nature ap- 
pears ?o have been unusually prodigal of charms and ex- 
cellencies. The exquisite beauty of her face and person, 



the melody of her voice in speech and singing, and the 
taste and feeling she possessed, rendered her inimitable 
upon the stage. Under her picture, this insciiption was 
put in Latin, " If you admire, reader, this glory of the 
theatre, when you only see her, what would you do if 
-you heard her?" 

The eulogiums of all the learned men of the age, but 
more particularly the works she left behind her, establish 
her claim to poetical excellence. She played admirably 
well on several instruments, understood the French and 
Spanish languages, and was not unacquainted with phi- 

Cardinal Cinthio Aldobrandini had a great esteem for 
her, as appears by many of her poems, and the epistle 
dedicatory to her works. When she went to Fiance, 
she was kindly received by their majesties, and the cele- 
brated people at court ; and wrote several sonnets in their 
praise, which are to be seen in the second part of her 

Isabella Andreini died of a miscarriage, at Lyons, in 
the forty-second year of her age. Her husband had her 
interred in the same city ; and honoured her with an 
epitaph, in which he extols her virtues, talents, and 
piety; and it is worthy of remark, that, amidst all the 
incense otlered to her charms and acquirements, she al- 
ways preserved a most unblemished reputation. 

The death of this actress was not only lamented by 
her husband, in many poems, but a number of Latin and 
Italian elegies were consecrated to her memory ; several 
of which were prefixed to her works, in the edition of 
Milan, in 1605. 

Besides her sonnets, madrigals, songs, and eclogues, 
we have a pastoral of tier's, in titled Mirtilla, and letters, 
which were printed at Venice, in 1610. 




CELEBRATED for her love to her country, was of 
Thebes, in Boeotia. That state was at war with the 
Orchornenians, they consulted the oracle, which an- 
swered, they would be victors, if the most noble 
amongst them would incur a voluntary death. Anti- 
phenes, the father of Androclea,' was the most illu- 
strious, by birth, amongst the Thebans, but did not feel 
disposed to make that sacrifice for their welfare. Andro- 
clea and her sister Alcis, more courageous or more ge- 
nerous, than their father, fulfilled this duty in his stead; 
and the Thebans, in gratitude, erected the statue of a 
lion to their honour in the Temple of Diana. 

ANDROMACHE, the Wife af Hector, Daughter of 
JEtion, King of Thebes, in Cilidia, who, u-ith seven 
sons, perished by the Hand of Achilles, in the same 

DARES, the Phrygian, represents Andromache as hav- 
ing brilliant eyes; fair, and tall. He adds, that she was 
beautiful, modest, wise, affable, and virtuous; tenderly 
attached to her husband and children; and it appears, 
that, notwithstanding the prevalent infidelity of the 
eastern nations, he confined his affection solely to this 

Euripides, on the contrary has affirmed, that the ten- 
derness of Andromache for her husband was so great, 
that it extended even to his mistresses ; and, that she 
had nursed the children he had by them : but, this ap- 
pears to have been said without sufficient foundation, and 
only proves the general opinion of the mildness and be- 
nevolence of her character. 

The resignation, which an early acquaintance with 
misfortune inspires in minds even of the most sensibility, 
appears to have supported Andromache under the death 



of her husband, and the multiplied miseries which fol- 
lowed. Dictys of Crete, in his third book affirms, that 
she accompanied Priam to the tent of Achilles, to de- 
mand the dead body of Hector; and brought before him 
her two sons, Astyanax, (afterwards thrown by the 
Greeks from a high tower) and Laodamas, to excite his 

On the partition of the captives, after the destruction 
of Troy, she fell to the share of Pyrrhus, the son of 
Achilles. She had by him three sons, named Molossus, 
Pielus,and Pergamus; and a daughter, Deidamia. Some 
make Pielus the eldest, and successor to his father; and 
deduce from him the kings of Epirus, down to Pyrrhus 
the Great, who died anno 272 B.C. 

On the marriage of Pyrrhus with Hermione, this 
prince united Andromache to Helenus, the son of Priam, 
who was likewise his captive. Servius and Pausanius 
place it after the murder of Pyrrhus, at Delphi; and 
the former says that it took place, because, in dying he 
had commanded it. By this marriage she had Cestrinus. 

Andromache survived Helenus, and left Epirus with 
Pergamus, the youngest of her sons by Pyrrhus, and 
followed him into Asia, where Pausanius says Pergamus 
disputed the sovereignty of the city of Teuthra, with 
its prince Areus, who had built it. That he killed the 
latter in single combat, made himself master of the place, 
which he called Pergamus; and that the tomb of him- 
self and Andromache were shown there in his time. 

F. C. 

ANGELBERGA, or INGELBERGA, Empress of the 
West, Wife of Lewis II. Emperor and King of Italy, 
in the Ninth Century. 

NOTHING certain is known concerning the origin of 
this princess, though she is supposed to have been of il- 
lustrious birth. She was a woman of ability and cou- 


rage; but proud, unfeeling, and so venal, that presents 
would always induce her to intercept the course of jus- 
tice, and influence the nomination even of church dig- 

Lothair, king of Lorrain, dying in 869, Charles the 
Bald, his paternal uncle, took possession of his domi- 
nions, and afterwards divided them with Lewis, king of 
Germany, without respecting the right of the emperor 
Lewis, the rightful heir. This latter was at war with 
the Saracens, in the farthest part of Italy; and, as he 
could not then approach Lorrain, he had recourse to 
pope Adrian, who fruitlessly interceded in his behalf. 

The war in which he was engaged, detained the em- 
peror till 871, a year that the pride and rapacity of An- 
gelberga, rendered unfortunate to her husband. While 
a part of his army was engaged at the siege of Tarentum* 
he was at Benevento, with his court. The troops which 
he had in the city and its vicinity, were burthensonae to 
their hosts ; the empress treated the ladies of Benev 
with disdain; and it was suspected she meant to depose 
Adalgise II. and sell the duchy to some other. This 
prince concealing his discontent, and seeking to relieve 
his people from their troublesome auxiliaries, lent a wil- 
ling ear to the proposals of a Saracen, who, from a pri- 
soner, had become his most intimate friend. He began 
to be jealous of the power of the French, and espoused 
the cause of the Greeks with great ardour. Seve- 
ral neighbouring princes -secretly entered into his views; 
and, as soon as the emperor had left Benevento, the 
general defection began to be visible. 

Lewis immediately marched back to that city ; but 
Adalgise found means to persuade him of his fidelity., 
and turn his arms against the others that had revolted, 
whom he soon reduced, and returned to Benevento. As 
this city was much crowded by the troops, Adalgise sug- 
gested, that such as came from no great distance might 
be permitted to return home; and;the emperor followed 
the perfidious counsel, reserving only his own guards. 



Adalgise then, after some useless resistance, soon made 
him self master of the person of Lewis, Angelberga, and 
their suite ; but, on the 17th of September, political rea- 
sons made him set them at liberty, after extorting solemn 
vows from both, that they would never attempt to re- 
venge the treatment they had received, or enter the prin- 
cipality of Benevento in arms. 

On leaving Benevento, the emperor sent Angelburga 
to hold a diet at Ravenna, where it immediately became 
a question, how they should punish Adalgise. She 
had no scruples concerning the oath ; but Lewis, 
though absolved by the pope, did not think himself at 
liberty to act in person, leaving it entirely to the em- 
press. She speedily assembled an army for that purpose ; 
but, in the mean time, Adalgise again made his peace 
with Lewis, though, immediately after, he allied him- 
self more closely than ever with the Greeks, and became 
a vassal of their emperor. 

As Lewis had the succession in Lorrain much at heart, 
he sent, in the same year 872, Angeiburga, to treat with 
the two kings, his uncles, upon the subject. Charles 
the Bald avoided an interview ; but the empress worked 
so adroitly upon the mind of Lewis, of Germany, who 
was inclined to bean honest man, that, without ac- 
quainting his new subjects with what he intended, he 
gave up his share in the kingdom of Lorrain, to his ne- 
phew, Lewis II. 

While Angelburga thus employed her understanding 
in the service of her husband, the great lords of Italy, to 
whom she was obnoxious, profiting of the chagrin he yet 
felt, concerning trie unfortunate affair of Benevento, 
which might be attributed, in a great measure, .to her 
conduct, sought to entangle him with a mistress ; and 
persuaded him to send a courier to the empress, desiring 
her to wait for him in Lombardy, where he meant 
speedily to 'come. Whether Angelburga knew the in- 
trigues of her enemies, or whether such an order ap- 
peared suspicious to her, she only made the more haste 



to join him, and thus disconcerted their projects. Count 
Campelli, in his history of Spoleto, has taken occasion, 
from this fact, to suppose, that Angelburga was repudi- 
ated by Lewis II. in order to marry this mistress, daugh- 
ter of the duke of that principality; and, that she be- 
came a nun. But the marriage of Lewis and Angelburga 
was never cancelled ; and the daughter of the duke of 
Spoleto could not have been the person, as she must 
have been more than fifty years old at the time. 

After staying more than a year at Capua, the empe- 
ror quitted it, in 879, and passed into Lombardy, where 
his presence was necessary , leaying the empress and her 
daughter in that city. The bishop, count Landulph, 
who, by his flatteries had obtained much influence over 
the minds of both, persuaded her to put the prince of 
Salerno, to whom he did homage for Capua, which he 
had usurped, in prison; from whence he did not effect 
his deliverance, till he had paid the empress a large sum 
of money. 

She soon after rejoined her husband ; and, in 874 1 , 
built, at Plaisance, a monastery, which afterwards be* 
came one of the most famous in all Italy. In 875, 
Lewis died at Brescia, and Charles the Bald, king of 
France, succeeded him, instead of his elder brother, 
Lewis, of Germany. The nobles of Italy held a council 
at Pavia, at which Angelburga assisted, and took the 
strange resolution of offering the crown secretly to both 
kings at once. It is to be supposed, that she had no 
share in forming this resolution, as she certainly had no 
reason to be friendly to Charles the Bald. 

Angelburga had obtained of her husband the com- 
mand of the monastery of St. Julia, in Brescia, in which, 
being a fortified place, her treasures were all deposited ; 
but Charles the Fat had been sent by his father, Lewis, 
of Germany, to oppose the pretensions of the king of 
France ; and entering the city, made himself master of 
the fruit of all her extortions. Yet, when hostilities 
ceased in this part of Lombardy, she retired into this 



monastery j and, in a letter written the year following, 
by pope John VIII. it appears the report was, that she 
had become a nun there ; but nothing is less certain. 
Though she had lost the treasures deposited in this place, 
she yet remained very rich in landed property, which 
had been given to her by her husband. To secure these 
possessions, she obtained a diploma from Lewis of Ger- 
many, in 876, in which he stiles her his god-daughter. 

In 877, she made her will, at this convent, which Le 
Cam pi has printed. She gives to her monastery at Plai- 
sance, a great many manorial rights, which were very 
valuable, as the lords were entitled to the tenth of all 
the produce, and many other privileges. She gives also 
much other property to the hospital built- for the sick, 
and the accommodation of travellers, according to the 
custom oL the age, near the monastery. All is done 
" for the benefit and redeeming the soul of the most 
merciful emperor, and for that of her own. She reserves 
to herself, during her life, the government and patronage 
of the , monastery and hospital. But, after my death," 
she adds, " I will and desire, that, if my only daugh- 
ter, Hermengarde, is desirous of taking the religious ha- 
bit, she may succeed me in the government of the same 
place. That if, when I leave this life, she does not take 
the religious habit, I will and decree, that she diminish 
nothing in the revenues of this monastery and hospital." 
This will was confirmed by pope John VIII. the same 

Hermengarde, who, with the consent of her mother, 
lived at the court of her relation, the duke of Friouli, with 
his and her own secret approbation, was carried off by 
Boson, brother of Richildis, wife of Charles the Bald, 
and married to him in 877. Boson, whom his brother- 
in-law, dead about two years before, had made duke of 
Provenge, at the instigation of his wife, caused himself 
to be proclaimed king, in 879 ; and, by his courage and 
ability, preserved the crown he had usurped, though at- 
tacked by the brother kings of France. In 881, Charles 
the Fat, being in Italy, caused the empress Angelburga 


to be taken from the monastery where she resided, 
and carried prisoner into Germany. It was supposed 
she might assist Hermengarde and her husband, by he? 
riches and political knowledge, and he meant to serve 
Lewis and Carloman by her confinement; yet, when h<e 
came to Rome to receive the imperial crown, her friend, 
the pope, demanded the liberty of Angelburga, which 
Lewis promised, provided the kings of France consented. 
On w h;ch John wrote to them in a very spirited manner : 
he said this princess was under the protection of the apo- 
stolical see, to which the emperor Lewis II. had recom- 
mended her; and prayed them to consent that she might 
be sent back to Rome, where lie himself would so well 
guard her, that she should not even aid, by her e % ou*>- 
sels, her son-in-law and her daughter. 

He also wrote, on this subject, a circular letter to all 
the archbishops, bishops, and counts of Italy, to engage 
them to attempt the deliverance of Angelburga; anil the 
next year, by letter, besought the reigning empress to 
intercede with her husband for that purpose. But, not- 
withstanding all his efforts, he did not obtain his request, 
till after the kings of France had taken Vienna, which 
they besieged near two years, and which Hermengarde 
herself had, till then, 889, courageously defended. 
Then Charles took Angelburga from her prison, and sent 
her, under the care of the bishop of Vermeil, his prime 
minister, to Rome. 

After this time we hear no more of her, excepting, 
that, by a bull in the year 885, pope Adrian III. at her 
desire, confirmed and augmented the privileges of her 
monastery. That, in 888, she obtained of Berenger, 
then created king of Italy, a diploma in confirmation of 
her property ; and the next year, Hermengarde being in 
Germany, obtained for her a like diploma from the em- 
peror Arnold. 

It is not specified when she died. She had only two 
daughters by the emperor Hermengarde, who survived 
her, and Gisela, abbess of St. Julia, who died before her 
parents. F. 


WAS celebrated for her skill in painting, but more for 
her great knowledge in Latin and Italian literature. She 
died young. 


DREW portraits and pictures for altar-pieces, from the 
designs of Antonio Cam pi. In 1568 she was visited by 
Vasari, who was astonished at the freshness and beauty 
of her colouring. 


ATTAINED such excellence in painting, that, at her 
death, in 1565, it was the common opinion amongst 
artists, that if she had not been taken from the world, 
she would have even surpassed her mistress, the famous 
Sophonisba, by whom she, and the two preceding, all 
sisters, were instructed. 

Lucia also excelled in singing, and possessed an ex- 
tensive acquaintance with polite literature. 


female Painter, of a noble Family, at Cremona. Died 

STUDIED under Bernardino Cumpi, then under Sojaro, 
and obtained so great a reputation, that Philip II. in- 
vited her to Spain, in 1559; caused her to take his por- 
trait and that -of the queen, (one of the latter was also 
sent to pope Pius IV. at his particular request) and she 
was so highly esteemed by both of them, that she was as- 
signed a pension, and received many valuable presents. 
They afterwards ^married her to Don Fabrizio di Mon- 



cada, a Sicilian nobleman, with a splendid dowry, and 
a pension of one thousand ducats, on the duchy of Pa- 
lermo. She was sent to her husband with eveiy mark 
of royal bounty ; but soon became a widow , and married , 
secondly, Orazio Lomellini, who was of one of the most 
illustrious families in Genoa. She lived to be extremely 
old, and lost her eye-sight; but still delighted to ta'k 
with painters on the difficulties of the art. Anthony 
Vandyke used to say, that * ' he had received more in- 
struction from the painting of a blind woman, than from 
his master.'* She taught her art to her three sisters. 

-> Madame Genlis; Abecedario Pittorfco, &c. 

WIFE of Anicius Probus, who was a Roman consul, 
in 371, with the emperor Gratian. She rendered herself 
illustrious by her understanding, and her piety. St. 
Augustin, Chrysostom, and Jerome, have all praised her 
in the highest manner. She composed a life of our Sa- 
viour, by putting together divers lines and passages of 
Virgil, with which she formed what the Latins called 
Centos, a sort of composition with more conceit than 
merit attached to it. 

F. C. 

ANNA, a Jewish Prophetess, Daughter of Phanuel, of 

the Tribe ofAser, 

LOSING a husband with whom she had lived seven 
years, she devoted herself to the service of God, by 
prayers and fastings, night and day, in the temple, 
which she never left. When the Saviour of the world 
was there presented an infant, she announced his great- 
ness; and joined her public testimony of his mission to 
that of Simeon. She died in the course of the same year. 

Bible. F. C. 




ANNE OF BRITTANY, Queen of France, and Du- 
chess of Brittany, Wife of Charles VIII. and Lewis 
XII. Kings of France. Born atNantz, 1476, died at 
Blois, 1514. 

THE eldest daughter of Francis II. duke of Brittany, 
who had no male heirs, an alliance with her was an 
object of ambition to the greatest princes in Europe. 
She was promised, when only five years old, to Edward 
the Black Prince ; but he died soon after : and , as she 
grew up, her beauty and mental accomplishments made 
many seek her hand, as well from personal attachment, 
as any other motive. The Sieur d'Albret, the duke of 
Orleans, afterwards Lewis XII. ; Maximilian, king qf 
the Romans, who became emperor; and Charles VIII. 
king of France. At the time of her father's death, her 
choice was undetermined; but, on account of the un- 
settled state of her dominions, it was thought best to 
prefer Maximilian, to whom, in 1490, she was married, 
by proxy ; but, before they had met, she was persuaded, 
by the fears the Bretons entertained of the power of 
France, to break off this intended union, and give her 
hand to Charles VIII. in 1491 ; who sent back the 
daughter of Maximilian, to whom he was already con- 
tracted, to her father, who thus received a double 

While Charles pursued his w T ars in Italy, he left the 
administration in her hands ; and, though scarcely 
eighteen years of age, she governed with admirable pru- 
dence. Dying in 14D8, the duke of Orleans, now called 
to the crown, got his marriage with Jane of France set 
aside, and became the hubband of the queen-dowager, 
in 1499. She had been once destined for him by her 
father, and his former love and attachment were not 
abated. Lewis was frugal, from tenderness to his peo- 
ple ; but he did not disapprove the munificence of Anne. 
She had a cabinet filled with diamonds and all sorts of 



precious stones, of which she made presents to the wives 
of those who had deserved well of their country. She 
was the dispenser of rewards and bounty; the prize of 
valour, merit, and learning, was given by the hand of 
beauty. She made many religious foundations; and, as 
duchess of Brittany, assumed, with the consent of the 
king, many privileges heretofore unknown to the queens 
of France, but which they afterwards retained ; such as 
having a guard; (hers, from her attachment to her native 
country, was always composed of Bretons) giving au- 
dience to ambassadors, &c. " Great and majestic in 
every thing," says St. Foix, <f she would have a court; 
and women of quality, who, till then were only born in 
one castle, to many and die in another, now came to re- 
side at Paris." What was most glorious for Anne was, 
the respect her example inspired for whatever was esti- 
mable in the female character. No lady, of even the 
highest rank, dared appear at court, without she was 
known to be virtuous; and, to use the words of one of 
their authors, " She planted honour and delicacy in the 
hearts of the French ladies." She instituted the order 
De la Cordeliere, in remembrance of the cords with 
which our Saviour was bound, and conferred it on the 
principal ladies of her court, admonishing them, at the 
same time, to live virtuously, and always remember the 
obligations and duties of their religion. The queens of 
France, before her time, had mourned in white; but she 
put on black on the death of Charles VIII : and, on her 
death, Lewis XII. did the same, contrary to the usual 
custom also of their kings. A magnificent marble mo- 
nument was erected to her honour, by Francis I. at St. 
Denis, near that of Lewis XII. 

The author of Anecdotes of the Queens of France, says, 
the complectionof Anne was of a dazzling whiteness, but 
fresh and animated ; that she had a large and high fore- 
head, at once dignified and modest, and a face rather 
long; that she was neither tall, nor otherwise. She had 
no other personal defect, than a trifling lameness, which, 



however, from the care she had taken to correct it in 
walking, and by her shoes, was hardly perceptible. She 
was naturally eloquent, judicious, and agreeable, not- 
withstanding the rudeness of the age, to which the graces 
and literature were alike unknown. Her heart was ge- 
nerous and affectionate; and she had a high idea of the 
duties of a queen : but her pride rendered her revengeful 
and obstinate. Yet Anne was sincerely pious, even to 
superstition; but, in all respects was pertinacious in ad- 
hering to opinions she had once adopted. She wished 
to appear learned in the eyes of foreigners ; and, to in- 
gratiate herself with them, would often intermix phrases 
of their different languages, when speaking to them, as 
if she understood them all. 

F. C. &c. 

Philip III. King of Spain, Wife of Letcis Xlll. King 
of France. Died January 20, 1666. 

WAS born at Valladolid, September 22, 1601, five 
days before her future husband, to whom she was mar- 
ried at Bourdeaux, November 0, 1015 ; but, though pos- 
sessed of a great share of beauty, she failed to engage his 
affections. Cardinal Richelieu rendered him suspicious 
of her love for her native country, and her brother, the 
king of Spain, to whom she always wrote privately. She 
had a skin of remarkably fine texture, and very fair; a 
quantity of light-brown hair; beautiful eyes, with a tint 
of green in them, which increased their vivacity and 
sweetness ; a small mouth ; hands and arms of extraor- 
dinary beauty and whiteness. Her nose was large; and 
she wore too much rouge. She was tall, and had a lofty, 
but not a proud look. Her air and smile inspired tender- 
ness, accompanied with veneration and respect. 

Anne was conscious of her charms ; and believed it to 
be the prerogative of the fair, to be beloved, even with- 
out hope. Thus, she was flattered by the homage of 



the duke de Montmorenci ; and, when she learnt he had 
recovered his freedom, considered herself as injured, 
and would see him no more. The duke, of Buckingham, 
who came as ambassador to negociate a marriage be- 
tween our Charles I. and Henrietta of France, made no 
mystery of the passion he had conceived for her. Ready 
to embark, at Calais, he left his future sovereign there, 
on some frivolous pretence, that he might return to 
court, for another look at the queen. Scarcely had he 
arrived in England, than he wanted to return; but 
Lewis XIII. would not consent to it; and Buckingham 
afterwards did all he could to embroil the two countries, 
that he might return there to treat of peace. The queen, 
who had the most romantic ideas of the privileges of 
beauty, afterwards became more discreet, and would 
submit no longer to be talked to of love. 

Lewis XIII. would have pardoned her coquetry, if he 
had not suspected her of political intrigues. She hated 
cardinal Richelieu, and did not conceal it. Barriere, 
one of her people, offered to kill him. " No ;" said the 
queen, " to that I cannot consent ; for he is a priest/' 
Yet she was suspected of plotting his death. She is 
said to have known of the conspiring against him ; for 
not having revealed which, though convicted of no ac- 
tive part, the son of the famous de Thou was beheaded, 
in 1(542. Richelieu caused her more than once to be .exa- 
mined by some of the presidents of the Parisian parlia- 
ment, respecting Spanish plots against his administra- 
tion. " God, iny lord cardinal," said she, " does not 
pay me weekly; but he will pay me at last." After 
the birth of two sons, she enjoyed more coiis'deration 
with the king ; but at his death, in 1643, he left her mere- 
ly the title of regent, giving all the authority to a r~ -il 
of his own choosing; but, his eyes were scarce ' -*d, 
when, discontented with this arrangement, sO" the 

parliament annul the decree of the king. Yet nobody 
was less proper than herself, to sustain the wei 

vermin n*- 


vernment. She was naturally indolent, and had not the 
least knowledge of business. She felt her own incapa- 
city, and the need she had of a director; and cardinal 
Mazarin, one of those appointed by the late king, by his 
pliability and address, soon gained all her confidence. 
Never was France so agitated as during her regency. 
The court was always at war with the parliament and . 
the people, on the most trifling causes, and almost al- 
ways worsted. 

In the early part of her administration, she was pro- 
fuse in her favours, and not knowing their importance, 
granted even the most impertinent demands. The French 
language was said to be reduced to these few words, 
The Queen is so good! This is said to have laid a foun- 
dation for all the evils which followed. The revenues of 
the state were exhausted by her inconsiderate donations ; 
and to obtain money, she retrenched a third of all pen- 
sions, which made her a great number of enemies. This 
resourse was found insufficient, and new taxes became 
necessary to be levied, on a nation already heavily birr- 
thened. The parliament opposed it, and the people 
sustained by them, became furious, and murmured at 
the great expences of the court in amusements, which 
were certainly more than indiscreet at such a time. 

It was the fault of the queen and her council to resent 
things too violently at first, and yield unseasonably 
which made them at once hated and despised ; as these 
late concessions were justly attributed to imbecility. 
She was counselled once to set Broussel at liberty, whom 
they had imprisoned during these tumults, which was 
loudly demanded by the people: " Set him free!" said 
she, ' ' I would sooner strangle him with my own handy ! " 
but yet it was found necessary to do it. The sedition 
augmented to such a height, that she was no longer safe 
in her own palace; and they began to cry out, ," Let 
the king rule by himself!" Lewis XIV. who was only 
live years old on the death of his father, was not then 
abo,ve eleven. 



The devotional exercises of the queen , meanwhile, were 
not interrupted. She left the conduct of affairs to Ma- 
zarin; but at length, out of patience at the increased 
commotion, resolved to abandon the field to the factions, 
and escape with the king from Paris ; a design which 
she executed with success, and was soon followed to St. 
Germain's by the Cardinal and the court. As this was 
a sudden thing, they found but indifferent accommoda- 
tions. There were neither moveables nor linen; and 
three little beds, which they brought with them, being 
occupied by the royal family, straw was spread in the 
apartments* for the Vest. 

On the departure of the queen, despair seems to have 
seized the minds of the Parisians : they appeared frantic, 
and nothing but confusion \vas seen throughout the city. 
The parliament, w^ho expected the royal vengeance to 
fall heavily upon them, in their own defence, ordered the 
citizens to take up arms. They refused to obey the com- 
mand of the queen, and leave Paris. She then forbade 
the neighbouring villages to carry provisions there. 
Both parties were exasperated to the utmost, and declared 
open war. The prince of Conti put himself at^the head 
of the Frondeurs, or exploders, as that faction was called, 
from having forced the royal family to leave the city. 

The queen's party laid siege to 'Paris for two months, 
and then patched up a temporary peace. They entered 
the city amidst the general acclamations of the people; 
hut the war de la Fronde soon broke out with greater 
violence than ever: 

Anne was obliged to banish Mazarin, the object of 
their hatred; when her son became of age, to take 
into his own hands the reins of government, he re- 
called him; but the troubles were not appeased till 

In 1663 Anne fell sick, from having observed Lent 
too rigidly; and the next summer, a little tumour ap- 
peared upon her breast, to which she at first paid no at- 
tention: but which afterwards, from the ignorance of 



lv?r physicians, degenerated into an incurable cancer. 
The 27th of May, 1665, she was seized with a fever > 
followed bv an erisipelas, which covered half her body. 
The abbe Montagu, an Englishman, and one of her con- 
fidents, announcing her approaching death. " You 
give me pleasure;" said she, " these are the most solid 
and the truest signs of friendship!" She then made her 
will; and, growing still worse, called for the Viaticum 
and extreme unction, which she received with great de- 

Her cancer was not the only evil which assailed her : 
an abscess had formed under one of her arms, which gave 
her excruciating pain. Her patience was exercised in 
many ways. Fastidiously nice in her person, and deli- 
cate in respect to odours, fine linen, and all the appur- 
tenances of the toilette her every sense was put to 
the torture ; but she shewed no impatience, and uttered 
no complaint. 

On the 4th of August she found herself better, and 
hopes began to be entertained of her recovery. She was 
brought from St. Germain* s to Paris, to the convent of 
Val-de-Grace ; but did not remain there long. The ce- 
remonies necessary to be observed on opening the doors, 
put the physicians out of patience,, and she was carried 
to the Louvre. But the unfavourable symptoms again ap- 
pearing, she was obliged to submit to most painful 
operations. On the 16th of January, 1666, a new 
erisipelas appeared her hands began to swell, and 
looking at them, she remarked it, saying, it was time for 
her to die. 

During a most painful operation on the cancer, when 
it was necessary to repeat the stroke of the lancet, she 
cried out, " Lord, Lord! let my sufferings atone for my 
sins ! I bear all most willingly, O God ! since it is 
thy will!" The bishop of Auch, her confessor, was 
once saying all he could to comfort her; and, after pray- 
ing by her some time, returned thanks to God for all the 
favours he had been pleased to bestow upon her during 
life: " Ah!" she- exclaimed, with dying accents, "it 

D2 is 


is true he made nje great, but of what importance is that 
to a future state ! How insignificant does all I heretofore 
considered glorious appear to me now ! How sensibly I 
feel my own unworthiness!" 

Anne of Austria was sincerely regretted by her son, who 
had paid her the most unremitting attention during her 
illness ; and to whom she had been a most affectionate and 
careful parent. Cardinal de Retz has given the following 
whimsical portrait of this princess; " The queen had, 
more than any body I have ever seen, the sort of under- 
standing, which was necessary not to appear a fool to 
those who did not know her. She had more sharpness 
than pride ; more pride than grandeur ; more manner 
than depth ; more understanding in money-matters, 
than liberality; more liberality, than selfishness; more 
selfishness than disinterestedness; more attachment, than 
passion; more hardness, Jian haughtiness; more re- 
membrance of injuries than benefits; more intention of 
piety, than piety itself; more obstinacy than firmness ; 
and more of incapacity, than any thing/' 

There seems to be malice in this description ; and in 
i-ome respects it did her remarkable injustice, since for- 
giveness of personal injuries was a striking trait in her 
character; and the last favour she asked of her son was, 
the recal of a gentleman, who had been banished for a 
libel against herself. She shewed also a great liberality 
oi'sentiment on some other occasions. Anthony Berthier, 
librarian of Paris, wished to join two volumes of letters 
and memoirs, that he had carefully collected, to the life 
of cardinal Richelieu; and solicited the countenance of 
the queen-mother, as, unless supported by her authority, 
,he dared not venture it, since many persons then living, 
were there treated very freely. " Proceed," replied the 
queen, e ' without feaf, and shame vice so completely, 
that nothing but virtue may remain in France." 

Anne was passionate and vindictive in the first heat of 
her resentments, but was sensible to reproof: and the 
bishop of Angers once nobly reminded her, that, to 
be a Christian, we must not permit ourselves to be guilty 



of one intentional sin, however gratifying to our passions. 
When Angers revolted, in 1652, she was determined to 
take heavy vengeance upon it; but was prevented from 
her sanguinary purpose, by this bishop, who, as he ad- 
ministered the sacrament to her, said, "' Take, madam, 
the body of him, who forgave his -enemies upon the 
cross.. "" 

Notwithstanding thejealousies and factions during her 
regency, she appears to have had the interest of the 
French very much at heart ; and delivered the monarchy 
into the hands of her son more powerful than it had ever 
before been. She was buried at St.* Denis, but her heart 
was carried to Val-de-Grace, which she had founded. 
The 'following epitaph was made upon her: 

" Sister, Wife, Mother, and Daughter of Kings ! Who was 
ver more worthy of these glorious Titles ;" 

Letters of St. Foix, &c. 

ANNE IWANOWNA, Czarina and Grand Duchess of 
Russia.' Born 1693, died, at Petersburgh, 1740, 

YOUNGEST daughter of the czar John'Alexiowitz, she 
married, in 1710, Frederic William, duke of Courland, 
who died without children, i?il. The czar Peter II. 
her grand nephew, dying in 1780, she was proclaimed 
empress. She was then at Mittau, in Courland, her 
usual residence, where deputies came to announce her 
succession, and to propose some articles from the 
council of state, at Moscow, limiting the power and 
prerogatives of the crown, which she accepted and 

When duchess of Courland, Anne had shown great 
favour to Birori, a person of mean extraction, but who, 
by a lucky chance had become gentleman of the cham- 
ber, and married one of her maids of honour. His 
ascendancy over her, his spirit of intrigue, and extreme 

D 3 arro- 


arrogance were so notorious, that one of the articles pro- 
posed was, that she should not bring Biron into Russia. 
She did not object at the time, but had scarcely arrived 
in Moscow, before he made his appearance at her court. 
By his advice, she formed a strong party, and brought 
about a revolution, which restored to the crown despotic 
authority. But when the whole plan was ripe for exe- 
cution, Anne hesitated, and was alarmed, till Biron took 
her by the hand, and led her to the door of the apart- 
ment in which the council of state, senate, and principal 
nobility were assembled, when she was declared absolute 
sovereign. Absolute only through the medium of Biron, 
she appears; for, during her reign, and by her will, 
which appointed him regent, during the minority of her 
nephew Ivan, for some weeks after her death, he ruled 
with despotic sway the vast empire of Russia; and, 
though the empress was mild and merciful, it is said, 
more than 20,000 people were banished into Siberia, 
during her reign. Sometimes the violence of his temper 
would break forth in a manner most disrespectful to the 
empress. Once in particular, while the duchessof Bevern 
had an audience, Biron burst into the apartment without 
ceremony, threatening, with the most horrid impreca- 
tions, that he would no longer be vexed and tormented 
by her servants, but would retire into Courland, (of 
which he had been made duke.) Having uttered these 
words, he quitted the room, and shut the door with great 
violence. The empress, in the highest consternation, 
lifted up her hands to heaven, then clasped them toge- 
ther ; and being almost ready to faint, opened the win- 
dow for fresh air. While she continued in this agitation, 
the duchess of Courland, accompanied by her children, 
entered the room, knelt down, and entreated the em- 
press to forget and forgive the passionate behaviour of her 
husband. Anne in this, as in every other instance, re- 
lented, and tolerated his insolence. 

During the sitting of the cabinet council, she used 
frequently to repair to an adjoining room, to consult him. 



She had no table of her own, but dined with his family. 
He was undoubtedly a man of very great capacity 
During his whole ad ministration, the external splendour 
of the Russian empire, and its internal tranquillity an- 
nounced the wisdom of his measures. 

Coxe's Travels. 

ANNE STUART, Queen of England. See 

A Spanish nun, who lived at the beginning of the se- 
venteenth century. She was not learned ; but composed, 
with prodigious facility, many treatises on religious mat- 
ters, which are yet extant. 

ANTIOPE, Queen of the Amazons. 

THAT such a people did exist, among the Scythians, 
there is little reason to doubt ; but, whether they con- 
sisted of a separate society of women, or, that the girls 
of those districts were brought up in a hardy manner, 
and instructed in warlike exercises, may be disputed ; 
but the last opinion seems the most probable. Much 
historical mention is made of their queens, particularly 
of Antiope. It was one of the twelve labours of Hercules, 
to bring the girdle, or, as others say, the scarf of this 
queenofthe Amazons, to Eurystheus_, king of Mycenae. 
He went, accompanied by the bravest Grecian warriors, 
and besieged her capital when, after many skirmishes, 
in which numbers on both sides perished, Antiope and 
her two sisters were taken prisoners ; and, believing it 
wiser to give up the contested ornament,, than be carried 

D 4 into 


into captivity, she yielded it to Hercules, and recovered 
her liberty, and that of her sister Meualippe. The other, 
Hippolyte, was married to Theseus, king of Athens, who, 
according to some, was principal in this expedition. 



A Famous Grecian poetess, some verses written by 
whom, were printed at Antwerp,, in 1568, in a collec- 
tion intituled, Carmina novem -Poetarumfceminanun. 

APOLLONIA, a Martyr in the Year 24S. 

A Persecution was raised against the Christians in 
Alexandria, during which Apollonia, th^n very aged, 
was arrested. 3he refused to renounce her faith, and 
they prepared to throw her into a large fire, when, ask- 
ing to be released, as if the sight of the punishment had 
changed her purpose, she no sooner found herself at li- 
berty, than she threw herself into the flames! 

Milner's Christian Church. 

ARC, (JOAN OF) Maid of Orleans,. Born 1402, died 
June 14, 1431, 

AFTER the death of Henry V. king of England, who 
for some time reigned absolute in France, though without 
the title of king, (which, however, was assured to him and 
his descendants after the death of Charles VI. who sur- 
vived him but two months) the regency of that kingdom 



\vasleft to kis brother, the duke of Bedford , onepf the most 
accomplished princes of the- age, whose experience, pru- 
dence, valour, and generosity, enabled him to maintain 
union among his friends, and to gain the confidence of 
his enemies. Charles VII. though inferior in power, 
was possessed of many great advantages in the affections 
of all Frenchmen, who-desired the independence of their 
country. The city of Orleans, the most important place 
in the kingdom, was besieged by Bedford, as a step 
which would prepare the way for the conquest 'of all 
France; The French king used every expedient to sup- 
ply the city with a garrison and provisions ; and the 
English left no method unemployed for reducing it. 
The eyes of all Europe were turned towards this scene of 
action, where it was reasonably supposed the French 
Were to make their last stand for maintaining the inde- 
pendence of their monarchy, and the rights of their sove- 
reign. After numberless feats of valour on both skies, 
the attack was so vigorously pushed by the English, that 
Charles gave up the city as^lost, when relief was brought 
from a very unexpected quarter. 

In the village of Domremi, near Vaucouleurs, on the 
borders of Lorrain, lived a country girl, whose name was 
Joan d' Arc; and who, in the humble station of servant 
at an inn, had been accustomed to tend the horses of the 
guests, to ride them without a saddle to the watering- 
place, and to perform other offices, which commonly 
fall to the share of me_n- servants. This girl, influenced 
by the frequent accounts of the rencounters at the siege 
of Orleans, and affected with the distresses of her coun- 
try and youthful monarch, w r as seized with a wild 
desire of bringing relief to him in his present unhappy 
circumstances. Her inexperienced mind, working dixy 
and night on this favourite object, mistook the.- re- 
pulses of passion for heavenly inspirations ; she fancied 
she saw visions, and heard voices, exhorting her to re- 
establish the throne of France, and expel the fore" -11 
invaders. An uncommon intrepidity of spirit made her 
D 5 divine 


divine mission dispel all that bashfulness so natural to 
her sex, her years, and low condition. She went to 
Vaucouleurs, procured admission to Baudricourt the 
governor, and informed him of her inspirations and in- 
tentions. Baudricourt observed something extraordi- 
nary in the maid , or saw the use that might be made of 
such an engine, and sent her to the French court, which 
then resided at Chinon. 

Joan was no sooner introduced to the king, than she 
offered, in the name of the Supreme Creator, to raise^the 
siege ofprleans, and conduct him to Rheims, to be there 
crowned and anointed : and she demanded, as the in- 
strument of her future victories, a particular sword, 
which was kept in the church of St. Catherine de Fier- 
bois. The more the king and his ministers were deter- 
mined to give into the illusion, the more scruples they 
pretended. An assembly of grave and learned divines 
was appointed, to examine her mission ; and pronounced 
it undoubted and supernatural. Her request was granted ; 
she was armed cap-a-pie, mounted on horseback, and 
shown, in that martial habiliment, to the whole people. 
Her dexterity in managing her steed, though acquired 
; in her former station, was regarded as a fresh proof of 
her mission ; her former occupation was even denied ; 
she was converted into a shepherdess, an employment 
more agreeable to the fancy. Some years were sub- 
stracted from her age, in order to excite still more ad- 
miration ; and she was received with the loudest accla- 
mations, by persons of all ranks. 

The English at first affected to speak with derision of 
the maid and her heavenly mission ; but were secretly 
struck with the strong persuasion which prevailed in all 
around them. They found their courage daunted, by 
degrees, and thence began to infer a divine vengeance 
hanging over them. A silent astonishment reigned 
among those troops, formerly so elated with victory, 
and so fierce for the combat. The maid entered the city 
of Orleans, at the head of a convoy, arrayed in her mili- 


tary garb, and displaying her consecrated standard. She 
was received as a celestial deliverer by the garrison and 
its inhabitants; and with the instructions of count Dunotf, 
commonly called the Bastard of Orleans, who commanded 
in that place, she actually obliged the English to raise the 
siege of that city, after driving them from their entrench^ 
ments, and defeating them in several desperate attacks. 

Raising the siege of Orleans was one part of the maid's, 
promise to Charles: crowning him at Rheims was the 
other; and she now vehemently insisted, that he should 
set out immediately on that journey. A few weeks be- 
fore, such a proposal would have appeared altogether 
extravagant. Rheims lay in a distant quarter of the 
kingdom ; was then in. the hands of a victorious enemy ; 
the whole road that led to it was occupied by their garri- 
sons; and no imagination could have been so sanguine 
as to hope, that such an attempt could possibly be car- 
ried into execution. But, as things had now taken a 
turn, and it was extremely the interest of the king of 
France to maintain the belief of something extraordinary 
and divine in these events, he resolved to comply with 
her exhortations, and avail himself of the present con-* 
sternation of the English. He accordingly set out 
for Rheims at the head of twelve thousand men, and 
scarcely perceived as he passed along, that he was march- 
ing through an enemy's country. Every place opened 
its gates to him : Rheims sent him its keys,- and the ce- 
remony of his inauguration was performed with the holy 
oil, which a pigeon is said to have brought from heaven 
to Clovis, on the first establishment of the French mo- 

As a mark of his gratitude, Charles had a medal struck 
in her honour. On one side was her portrait, on the 
other a hand holding a sword with these words ,' Constiio 
confirmata Dei. Sustained by the assistance of God 
The king also ennobled all her tamily, as well in the 
male as in the female line; the former became extinct 
in 1760. In 1614, the latter, at the request of the pro- 


curator-general, were deprived of their privilege of en- 
nobling their children, independent of their husband. 
'*he town of Domremi, also, where she was born, was 
exempted from all taxes, aids, and subsidies for ever. 

The Maid of Orleans, as she is called, declared, after 
this coronation, that her mission was now accomplished ; 
and expressed her inclination to retire to the occupations 
and course of life which became her sex. But Dunois, 
sensible of the great advantages which might still be 
reaped from her presence in the army, exhorted her (o 
persevere, till the final expulsion of the English. In 
pursuance of this advice, she threw herself in to the town 
of Compiegne, at that time besieged by the duke of Bur- 
gundy, assisted by the earls of Arundel and Suffolk. 
The garrison, on her appearance, believed themselves 
invincible. But iheir joy was of short duration. The 
maid, after performing prodigies of valour, was taken 
prisoner in a sally; and the duke of Bedford, resolved 
upon her ruin, ordered her to be tried by the ecclesiasti- 
cal court for sorcery, impiety, idolatry, and magic. She 
was found guilty by her ignorant or iniquitous judges, 
of all those crimes, aggravated by heresy. Her revela- 
lations were declared to be inventions of the devil, to 
delude the people. No efforts were made by the 
French court to deliver her; and this admirable heroine 
was cruelly delivered over alive to the flames, at the age 
of nineteen, A.D. 1431, and expiated by the punish- 
ment of fire, the signal services which she had rendered 
to her prince and native country. 

Joan appears not only to have been a virtuous and he- 
roic character, but to have possessed that truth and sen- 
sibility, which should, and perhaps always does, accom- 
pany true genius. Her manner is recorded to have been 
imld and gentle, when unarmed, though courageous 
in the field. She was frequently wounded; and once 
drawing out the English arrow, cried out, " It is glory, 
and not blood, which flows from this wound ! and, 



when mounting the fatal pile, though her face was co- ' 
vered with tears, she said, " God be blessed!" 

Russel's Modern Europe, F. C. &c. 

ARE8TE, two of that Name, one Wife, the other Daugh- 
ter of Aristippus, of Cyrene. 

THIS celebrated philosopher had instructed them with 
so much success, that his wife was able to teach philo- 
sophy and the sciences to her son, who was therefore 
called Metrodidactos, taught by his mother : and after 
the death of Aristippus, his daughter was unanimously 
elected head of the school. All her cotemporaries have 
cited her as a prodigy of beauty, virtue, under- 
standing and knowledge. The five daughters ofOiodo- 
rus Cronus were likewise famous for their knowledge 
and virtue. 

F. C. 


DAUGHTER of Alyattes, king of Lydia, by her genius 
and eloquence, reconciled the Medes and Lydians, who 
ha.d been at war five years. 


WIFE of the poet Lucan, cultivated herself the art with 
success, and corrected the Pharsalia, after the death of 
her husband. 


A Learned woman, of whom St. Clement, of Alexan- 
dria, makes mention. The time she lived in is un- 


known. She wrote a histoiy of Dionysius, tyrant of 


DAUGHTER of Nearchus, a celebrated painter of Sy- 
cion became his disciple, and obtained great fame from 
painting an Esculapius. 

Sister of the famous doctor Arnauld, titulary Abbess, 
and Reformer of the Convent of Port Roy aides Champs'. 
Bom 1596, died l61, aged 70. 

THIS lady, whose knowledge and virtue were cele- 
brated from a child, was the first that sought to bring 
back the simplicity of manners and self-denial which were 
known in cloisters, at their first institution. She herself 
gave the example of disinterestedness, humility, and obe- 
dience, and wrought such a happy change in her sister- 
hood, that she was sent for, at the age of twenty, to 
Maubisson, to reform that great abbey, where she re- 
mained' five years. It was here she became acquainted 
with Francis de Sales, afterwards canonized, who held 
her in high esteem. On her return to Port Royal, her 
assiduities never relaxed till her death. Her sister Ca- 
therine Agnes was a nun also, and author of two little 
books, Le CKapelet secret du Saint Sacrament, and 
I' Image de la Religieuse parfaite et imparfaite. The 
first was censured by the Sorbonne, as liable to mislead 
the ignorant. -She died 1671, aged 77. She had been 
72 years a nun, so that she must have taken the veil at 
the age of five years, which seems an absurdity. 

F c. 



ARRAGON, (JANE OF), an Italian Lady, Daughter 
of Ferdinand of Arragon, duke of Montalto, and Wife 
of Ascanius Colonna, by whom she had the famous Marc 
Antony Colonna, who vanquished the Turks, at Le- 
panto. Died 1577. 

So remarkable for beauty, wit, and courage, that a large 
collection of poems in her praise, was published at Ve- 
nice, in 1555, in the Latin, Greek, Italian, French, Spa- 
nish, Sclavonic, Polonese, Hungarian, Hebrew, Chal- 
dean, &c. languages. 

Essay on Women, by M. Thomas. 

ARRAGON, (TULLIA OF) a Neapolitan Lady, cele- 
brated for her erudition, understanding, and poetical 
talents. Flourished about 1550. 

WAS born at Naples, but carried to Rome in her in- 
fancy, and brought up in that city with the greatest care. 
When very young, the study of polite literature, and 
exercising a happy talent for poetry, which she pos- 
sessed, formed her highest enjoyments. She soon be- 
came known, and was early classed with the most illu- 
strious of the learned. She afterwards passed several 
years at Venice, where her society was much courted by 
all people of merit or .science. She wrote many miscel- 
laneous poems, which appeared at first scattered in se- 
veral dilferent collections, but were collected and pub- 
lished at Venice, in 1547. They carry marks of genius 
and a sprightly imagination, and are much praised for 
purity of stile. 

She was persuaded by some of her literary acquaint- 
ance, to write a treatise on the infinity of love, Dell In- 
finita d'Amor, which was printed at Venice. She there 
also composed a poetical romance, called the Unfortu- 
nate, 11 Mesehino, which perhaps may be called an epic 



poem. The hero wanders, like Telemachus, from place 
to place, in search of his father. This work, of which 
the stile was much praised, had not much success. It 
was said to be translated from a Spanish Romance ; but 
is now believed to be an old Italian poem, new written 
and better versified. Honourable mention of Tullia is 
made by many Italian writers, but more particularly by 
the famous Girolamo Muzio, who was deeply in love 
with her, an<l esteemed her 'highly. In the third book 
of his letters, he speaks much of the good qualities and 
virtues of this ingenious lady ; and his most beautiful 
poems are written in her praise, under the fictitious name's 
of Tyrrhenia and Thalia. 


ARRIA, Wife of Ccecinna Pcetus, a Consul under the em- 
peror Claudius, in the first Century. 

IN the reigns of the unworthy successors of Caesar, the 
most unbridled licentiousness prevailed at Rome; and 
with its liberties, the last remains of moral restraint 
seemed to have expired The' sect of the Stoics alone, 
to which all that was noble of both sexes then belonged, 
by a stern and unbending austerity, by rigorous self-de- 
nial and fortitude, acted as a powerful counterpoise to 
the general depravity. Arria was of this sect, ajid, if" 
the abandonment of every personal consideration, and 
the power of subjecting lively and tender feelings be the 
highest proof of magnanimity, she is well entitled to 
that immortality her actions have secured. 

Her son and husband were both sick of a dangerous ill- 
ness at the same time : the former died ; and she was 
convinced, that, in his present weak state Paetus could 
nofc survive a knowledge of the fatal event. She there- 
fore fulfilled every mournful duty to the remains of her 
child, whom ?he bitterly bewailed in secret; but, when 
she entered the chamber of his father, concealed the an- 


guish of her soul, under the assumed smiles of hope and 
confidence; not even his solicitude and frequent in- 
quiries disarmed her resolution, which his recovery, in' 
this instance, rewarded ; but which was soon to be put 
to still greater trials. 

Scribonius had excited a revolt in Illyria, the object of 
which was, to dethrone the imbecile Claudius; but was 
vanquished, and put to death. Paetus, one of his parti- 
sans, was also taken prisoner, and carried to Rome by 
sea. Arria entreated to be permitted to accompany him, 
alledging, that to a man of his rank, some attendants 
of course must be allowed ; that these should be dis- 
pensed with, and she would fulfil all their duties, if per- 
mitted to come on board ! On the refusal of the sol- 
diers, she hired a small bark, and followed him. On her 
arrival at Rome, she was met in the palace by the widow 
of Scribonius, who wished to speak to her. - " I speak 
to thee!" returned Arria indignantly, " to thee who 
hast been witness of thy husband's death, and yet sur- 
vivest!" For she had herself determined, that, if all 
her endeavours to save Paetus, failed, she would die 
with him. Her son-in-law', Thraseus, u~~ 
ment to persuade her to give up this design. " 
I," said he, "in his situation, would you have your 
daughter die with me?'! " Certainly;" answered she, 
' had she lived with you as long and as Jjappily as I 
with Paetus." He was at length condemned to die ; whe- 
ther by his own hands, at that time no uncommon sen- 
tence, is uncertain; if it were not so, he wished to 
avoid the punishment allotted him by a voluntary death ; 
but at the moment wanted courage. Seeing him stag- 
gered and hesitating, Arria seized the dagger, plung- 
ed it first into her own breast, and then presenting it 
to her husband, said, with a smile, " It is hot painful 

The wife of Thraseus, and her daughter, who married 
Helvidius Priscus, inherited the fate and sentiments of 

Essay by M. Thomas. F. C. &c. 




ARTEMISIA, Queen of Car/a, Daughter of Lygdamiir. 

THIS princess, celebrated for her courage and pru- 
dence, enjoyed the royal authority, on account of the 
minority of her son. When Xerxes declared war against 
the Greeks, about the year 480 B.C. the love of glory 
led her to accompany him in this expedition ; and she 
distinguished herself more than any of the Persian 
generals. She counselled Xerxes not to risk the battle 
of Salamis, the event of which was so unfortunate to him. 
During the action, she, however, acted so conspicuous 
a part, that the Athenians offered a great reward to any 
man who should take her prisoner. Seeing herself pursued 
for this purpose, by one of their vessels, without 
any hope of escape, she made use of a bold and, cruel 
stratagem, which at once gratified her revenge, and en- 
sured her safety. She attacked a Persian vessel, com- 
manded by Damasythimus, king of Calyndus, who was 
her enemy, and sunk it. The Athenians, judging by 
this action that she was in the Grecian interest, ceased to 
pursue her, and Xerxes, who believed she had destroyed 
a Grecian vessel, cried out, " that the men behaved like 
women, and the women like men." He confided to 
her the care of the young princes his children, when, by 
her advice, he abandoned Greece to return into Asia. 

Expert in all the arts and stratagems of war, Artemi- 
sia wished to make herself mistress of Latmus, a small 
city on the borders of her kingdom. She placed some 
troops in ambuscade, and went, with a grand suite, as 
if to celebrate the feast of Cybele in an adjoining wood, 
which was consecrated to that goddess. The inhabitants 
abandoned the city to join in this act of devotion; and, 
in the meanwhile, her soldiers took possession of the 

Artemisia is said to have been desperately in love 
with a young man named Dardanus, who slighted her, 
which enraged her to such a degree, that she com- 
manded his eyes to be put out whilst he slept; and find- 


ing Irer passion unconquerable, soon afterwards threw 
herself from the top of the famous promontory of Leucas 
ink) the sea. 

F. C. Female Worthies, &c. 

ARTEMISIA II. Queen of Caria, Sister and Wife of 

IMMORTALISED herself by the honours she paid to the 
memory of her husband, to whom sUe erected, at Hali- 
carnassus, a magnificent tomb, which was esteemed one of 
the seven winders of the world ; and from which all suc- 
ceeding monuments have obtained the name of Mauso- 
leums. Pliny and Aulus Gellius have given a descrip- 
tion of it; and the latter adds, " she put the ashes of 
her husband every day into her drink, that she might be- 
come his living tomb! and that she established grand 
prizes for the learned who should make the best panegy- 
ric on Mausoleus !" but died of grief before this magnifi- 
cent edifice was completed, two years after the death of 
her husband . 

The grief of Artemisia did not prevent her watching 
the safety of the state. The Rhodians had formed a de- 
sign to dethrone her. She went to Avar with them, and 
drove them back to the walls of their city, which she 
besieged in person, and took in the year 351, B.C. She 
treated the inhabitants with rigour, and caused two sta- 
tues to be erected, one of the city of Rhodes habited like 
a slave, and the other of herself marking it with a hot 
iron. This monument remained a long time, to the 
shame of the vanquished, because it was a religious tenet 
with them, never to destroy even the trophies of the4r 
enemies; but they afterwards built walls round it to 
screen it from public view. 

F. C.j Female Worthies, &c, 



ARUNDEL, (BLANCHE, LADY) Daughter of Ed- 
ward Somerset, Earl of Worcester. Died 1649, aged 

WARDOUR Castle being summoned, May 2, 1643, by 
the parliamentary forces under Sir Edward Hungerford, 
to surrender, the Lady Arundel, who commanded it in 
the absence of her husband, refused to deliver it up, al- 
ledging, that she had orders from her lord to keep it, and 
those orders she was determined to obey. On this reply, 
the cannon were drawn up, and the battery commenced, 
which continued from Wednesday till the following 
Monday. The castle contained but twenty-five fighting 
men. During the siege two mines were sprung, by the 
explosion of which, every room in the fortress was shaken 
and endangered . The besiegers offered, more than once, 
to give quarter to the women and children, on condition 
that the besieged should surrender their arms at discre- 
tion. But the ladies of the family disdained to sacrifice their 
brave friends and faithful servants to their own safety ; and 
when the latter were almost worn out by watching, they, 
with their female servants, assisted in loading the mus- 
quets, and in administering refreshments to tneir intre- 
pid defenders. 

For nine days was the castle thus defended ; but, find- 
ing there was no hope of holding out longer, a parley was 
demanded, and the castle surrendered on honourable 
terms. But when the besiegers had taken possession t 
one article alone, that of sparing the lives ot the inha- 
bitants was observed. They destroyed the fine paintings, 
took the ladies and children to Shaftesbury, whither five 
cart-loads of their richest furniture and hangings were 
carried in triumph. The castle, the park, every thing 
was destroyed; and the loss of the earl of Arundel, 
on this occasion, was computed at one hundred thousand 

Conceiving their prisoners insecure at Shaftesbury, it 
was proposed to remove them to Bath, which, at that 



time was infected both with the plague and small-pox. 
Lady Arundel, alarmed for her children, remonstrated 
against this barbarous purpose, determined that* force 
only should effect it; and, afraid of exciting the indig- 
nation of the people, her adversaries relinquished the de- 
sign, though they cruelly separated her from her young 
children, who were carried captives to Dorchester. 

Lady Arundel is buried with her husband, near the 
altar of an elegant chapel, at Wardour Castle. , Under 
the inscription on their tomb is this verse from the Pro- 
verbs : 

" Who shall find a valiant woman? The price of her 
is as things brought from afar off, and from the uttermost 
coast. The heart of her husband trusteth in her ." 

Seward's Anecdotes. 

ARUNDEL (MARY) Daughter of Sir Thomas 
Arundel, Wife, first of Robfrt^Ratcliff, who died 1566, 
secondly of Henry Howard , Earl of Arundel, 

WAS a learned lady. Srie translated into English, 
from the Latin, the wise sayings and eminent deeds of 
the emperor Alexander Severus. This is dedicated to 
her father, and the manuscript is in the royal library at 
Westminster. She translated also from Greek into 
Latin, Select sentences of the Seven wise Grecian Philo- 
sophers. In the same library is ^preserved of her writing, 
Similies collected from the books of Plato, Aristotle, Se- 
neca, and other philosophers. 

Female Worthies, &c. 

ASKEW, or AYSCOUGH (ANNE) Daughter of Sir 
William Askew, ofKelsay, in Lincolnshire, Wife of a 
Mr. Kyrne, burnt July, 16, 1546, aged 25. 
A MATCH having been made by the parents of this 

lady, and of Mr. Kyme, between the son of the latter 



and her elder sister, who died before it took place; 
Sir William having paid part of the portion, compelled 
his second daughter, Anne, a young woman of great 
beauty, to accept the hand of her intended brother-in-law 
much against her inclination, though after the marriage 
had taken place, she fulfilled her duties as a wife and 
mother,, in a most exemplary manner. The doctrines 
of the reformers making, at that time, much noise, 
Anne, who was both learned and pious in a high de- 
gree, applied herself to reading the Bible, and became 
a protestant ; which so offended her husband, that, 
by the suggestions of the priests, he drove her violently 
from his house. On this cruel usage, she came to 
London to procure a divorce, and to seek the protection 
of those at court who pretended, or did favour the 
protestant cause. But it was not long before, by the 
procurement of her husband, and the vigilance of the 
priests, she was taken into custody, and several times 
examined concerning her faith, of which she herself 
wrote a long account, afterwards published by bishop 

Her first examination was in March, 1545, by Christo- 
pher Dare, inquisitor ; afterwards by a certain priest, 
by the lord mayor of London, and the bishop's chari- 
cellor, upon the usual topics of transubstantiation, 
reading the scriptures, of masses for the help of de- 
parted souls, and other articles ; to which she gave 
very proper and pertinent answers. Then she was com- 
mitted to the Compter, where she was kept eleven 
days, no friend being permitted to speak with her, nor 
any bail or sureties to be taken for her deliverance from 

On March 23, Mr. Britayne, her cousin, obtained 
leave to visit her in the Compter, and endeavoured all 
he could to bail her. First, with the mayor, then 
with the chancellor, and, lastly, with Bonner, bishop 
of London. This occasioned her to be brought before 
his lordship, on March 23d,. who, with much seeming 



kindness, told her he was sorry for her troubles, but withal, 
desired to know her opinion in such things as were 
alledged against her; and, after much discourse with the 
bishop and the rest, about transubstantiation, the mass, 
&c. she was at last bailed, her cousin Mr. Bjritayne., 
and Mr. Spilman, of Gray's Inn, being sureties. 

Not long after this she was again apprehended, 
brought before the king's council at Greenwich, and 
examined by chancellor Wriothesly, Gardiner, bishop 
of Winchester, Dr. Cox, and Dr. Robinson, upon the 
old topics ; but not being able to convince her of her 
supposed errors, she was sent to Newgate, though ex- 
tremely ill. 

Slie was soon after condemned to be burnt, as a he- 
retic, which she denied being. " But, as concerning 
the faith which I uttered and wrote "to the council, I 
would not (I said) deny it, because I knew it true. 
After that, they willed me, to have a priest, and then I 
smiled ; then they asked me if it were not good ? I 
said, I would confess my faults unto my God. For I 
was sure he would hear me with favour. And so we 
were condemned with a quest." 

After her condemnation, her chief support was the 
goodness of her cause, which afforded her great 
consolation ; and even seems to have made her entertain 
some hopes of a pardon, even from this unjust tribunal, 
as appears from two letters which she wrote to the king 
and the lord chancellor ; asserting, in a general but 
simple way, her own innocence : that she abhorred all 
heresies, and believed, concerning the supperof the Lord, 
all that he himself said, and all that was taught by the 
true church. 

Then she proceeds to give an account of her examina- 
tion and inhuman treatment after her departure from 
Newgate : that she went from thence to the sign of the 
Crown, where Mr. Rich and the bishop of London en- 
deavoured, with all their power, to pervert her from 
the faith, charging her to discover all those she knew 



of her opinion, particularly some ladies of qualify, 
which, by evasive answers, she refused to do. Then 
they sent her to the Tower, and put her upon the rack, 
and kept her on it a long time, because she would make 
no confession. " And because,'* says she, " I lay 
still and did not cry, my lord chancellor and Mr. 
Rich took pains to rack me with their own hands till I 
was well nigh dead. Then the lieutenant caused me to 
be loosed from the rack. Incontinently I swooned, 
and then they recovered me again. After that I sat 
two long hours reasoning with my lord chancellor, upon 
the bare floor, whereas he, with many flattering words, 
persuaded me to leave my opinions. But my Lord 
God (I thank his everlasting goodness) gave me grace 
to persevere, and W 7 ill do, I hope, to the end. 

" Then I was brought to an house and laid in a bed, 
with as weary and painful bones as ever hud patient 
Job ; I thank my God therefore. Then my lord chan- 
cellor sent me word, if I would leave my opinions I 
should want nothing.: but, if I would not, I should 
forthwith go to Newgate, and so be burned. I sent 
him again word, that I would rather die than to break 
my faith." 

Being led to the stake, letters were brought from 
the lord chancellor, offering her the king's pardon if 
she would recant. She not only refused to look at 
them, but returned this answer : <f thaj she came not 
thither to deny her Lord and Master." The same let- 
ters were also tendered to the other three who suffered 
with her, who, imitating her example, refused to look 
at them. Whereupon the lord mayor commanded the 
fire to be kindled, crying out fiat justitia. And the 
faggots being lighted, she surrendered her soul to God. 

Female Worthies. 



ASPASIA, a Courtesan of Athens, Mistress and Wife 
of Pericles. 

THE education of the Grecian ladies in general, and 
particularly the Athenians, from their secluded lives, 
was scarcely superior to that of their female slaves, 
with whom they lived, shut up in a part of the house 
appropriated to them ; associating little with one an- 
other, and scarcely at all with the men, even their 
nearest relations ; seldom appearing in public, but at 
those religious festivals, in which ancient custom pre- 
scribed that the women should bear a part. To this 
cause must be attributed that comparative superiority 
through which some- of the Grecian courtesans attained 
extraordinary renown. Carefully instructed in every 
elegant accomplishment, and, from early years, ac- 
customed to converse with men, even of the highest 
rank and most approved talents; if they possessed un- 
derstanding, it became cultivated, and their houses 
were resorted to, not merely in the low pursuit of plea- 
sure, but often to enjoy, in the most polished society, 
the charms of female conversation, which, with women 
of rank and character, was totally forbidden. 

Aspasia was a Milesian, the daughter of Axiochus, 
for her celebrity has preserved her father's name. 
With uncommon beauty were joined, in Aspasia, still 
more uncommon talents^, wit, natural eloquence, im- 
proved by study, a perfect knowledge of moral pliilo- 
sophy, and great skill in poetry ; and, with a mind thus 
cultivated, she possessed manners so decent, that, 
in more advanced years, not only Socrates professed 
to have learned eloquence of her, but the Athenian la- 
dies used to accompany their husbands to her house, 
for the instruction of her conversation, which was not 
more brilliant than solid. Pericles, the enlightened 
ruler of Athens, became her most passionate admirer. 
He passed his little leisure from public business mostly 
in company withAspasia and a few select friends, avoid- 


ing that extensive society in which the Athenians hi 
general delighted. Some say that Pericles made his 
court to Aspasia only on account of her wisdom and 
political abilities. It was even believed by the most 
intelligent Athenians, and, arnon.^ them, by Socrates 
himself, that she composed the celebrated funeral oration 
pronounced by him in honour of those that were slain 
in the Salamian war. (It is well known he used to 
write down all, his speeches before he pronounced 
them). It is probable enough that Pericles undertook 
that war to avenge the quarrels of the Milesians, at the 
suggestion of Aspasia, who was their countrywoman, 
and is said to have accompanied him in this expedi- 
tion, and to have built a temple to perpetuate the me- 
mory of his victory. 

Plutarch relates that Pericles and his wife living very 
unhappily together, they parted ; she was married to 
another, and he to Aspasia, for whom he had the ten- 
derest regard. This connection was not likely to escape 
satire. She was called, on the public stage, the Om- 
phale of her time, the Dejanira, and even the Juno. 
Many circumstances of the administration were male- 
volently attributed to her influence, and much gross 
abuse and improbable calumny vented against both of 

Hermippus, a comic poet, prosecuted Aspasia for 
fmpiety, which seems, in their idea, to have consisted in 
disputing the existence of their imaginary gods, and 
introducing new opinions about celestial appearances. 
But she was acquitted, though much against the tenor 
of the law, by means of Pericles, who, (according to 
Eschines) , shed many tears in his application for mercy 
in her behalf. 

After the death of Pericles, at the age of 70, 1429, 
B. C. we hear nothing of her, but that Lysicles, a 
grazier, by his intercourse with her, became the most 
considerable man in Athens. 

The eloquence of this accomplished woman, the 



power which she obtained over the mind of Pericles, 
and (if we may judge from his actions) that power was 
exerted for laudable purposes, and the high terms in 
which she was spoken of, even by philosophers, entitle 
her to admiration, though mingled with regret. 

Plutarch j Mitford. 

ASPASIA, or MILTO, Mistress of Cyrus. Born about 
421 Years B. C. of free Parents, at Phocis, in Ionia t 

WAS brought up virtuously, though in poverty, and 
being very beautiful, with the singularity of fine light 
hair, naturally curling, attracted the notice of one of the 
satraps of Cyrus the younger, who forced her father to 
deliver her, against her consent, to him, for the se- 
raglio of this prince. She was presented to Cyrus, 
with some other strained to please ; but her modesty, 
dignity and grief, so affected him, that he applied himself 
seriously to gain her affections ; equality was established 
between them ; and their union, the fame of which was 
spread all over Greece, and even in Persia, was esteemed 
a. marriage. In effect, the regularity of her manners 
and conduct, and the respect he paid to her under- 
standing, by -consulting her on the most important 
affairs (a confidence which he had never cause to repent) 
gave her all the consideration of a wife. Cyrus afterwards 
made her quit the name of Milto, which she had till 
then borne, and take that which Aspasia of Miletus 
by her wit and beauty had rendered so celebrated. 
A rich Aain of gold being sent to him, of curious 
workmanship, he presented it to Aspasia, saying, 
* it was worthy the wife or daughter of a king;' 
but she refusing it, advised him to send it to Pan- 
satis, whose favourite son he was, who was so well 
pleased with her moderation, that she returned her 
many grand presents, and a large sum of gold -all of 

E 2 which 


which Aspasia delivered to. Cyrus, after praising the 
generosity of his mother. " It may be of service to 
you," said she, " who are my riches and my orna- 
ment." She availed herself only of the change in her 
fortune to rescue her father from the state of poverty in 
which he had formerly lived. 

Excited by his mother and his own ambition, Cyrus 
attempted to dethrone his elder brother Artaxerxes, 
but perished in the trial. In the year 401, B. C. 
Aspasia was taken by the army of the conqueror, and, 
on his commanding her to be sought, they brought her 
before him loaded with chains. At this Artaxerxes 
was very angry, put her conductors in prison, and or- 
dered her to be clothed in magnificent apparel. The 
tears of Aspasia flowed more abundantly than before. She 
had tenderly loved Cyrus, and regretted him sin- 
cerely ; but at length was forced to accept the dresses 
which the king had sent her, and was soon ranked 
the first among his women. His wife Statira was still 
living ; and as he could not therefore marry her, he 
bestowed on her nearly the same honours as a queen. 
But it was long before his attentions and respect could 
efface the remembrance of Cyrus from her heart. 

F, c. 

ASTELL, (MARY) Daughter of Mr. Astell, a Mer- 
chant at Newcastle-upon-Ty?ie. Died in 1731, aged 

AN uncle of this lady, who was a clergyman, having 
observed in her proofs of a superior capacity, gener- 
ously undertook to be her preceptor ; and, under his 
tuition, she learned Italian and French, and made a 
considerable progress in logic, philosophy, and the ma- 

At the age of twenty, she left Newcastle and went 
to London, where, and at Chelsea, she spent the re- 


raaining part of her life. Here she assiduously prose- 
cuted her. studies, and acquired very considerable at- 
tainments in all the branches of polite literature. 

About this time, the Rev. John Norris published 
his Practical Discourses upon several Divine Subjects* 
which gave occasion for many excellent letters between 
him and Mrs. Astell on the love of God ; which, at the 
request of Mr. Norris, she suffered him to publish 
in 1695, without her name; a precaution which their 
merit rendered useless. 

She observed and lamented the,defects in the educa- 
tion of her sex; which, she said, were the principal causes 
of their running into so many follies and improprieties. 

To remedy so great an evil, she wrote and published, 
in 1696, an ingenious treatise, entitled, A serious Pro- 
posal to the Ladies, for the Advancement of their true 
and greatest Interest, &c. and, some time after, a second 
part, under the same title, with this addition ; wherein 
a Method is offered for the Improvement of their Minds. 
Both these performances were published together in 
1696, and had, jn some measure, the desired effect. . 
Nay, the scheme in her proposal seemed so rational, 
that a certain opulent lady intended to have given 
10,0001. towards erecting a sort of college for the edu- 
cation and'improvement of the female sex ; and as a 
retreat to those ladies who preferred retirement and 
study to the noise and hurry of the world. Bishop 
Burnet, hearing of the design, went to the lady, and 
powerfully remonstrated against it, telling her it would 
look like paving the way for popish orders, 'and that 
it would be reputed a nunnery ; in consequence of which, 
the design was relinquished. 

- I do not find that for seven years after she' printed 
any thing, except An Essay in "Defence of the Female 
Sex. In a Letter to a Lady. Written by a Lao 1 }/. Yet 
she was as intent on her studies, during that time, as 
ever ; and when she has accidentally seen needless vi- 
sitors coming, whom she knew to be incapable of con- 
ic 3 versing 


versing on useful subjects, she would look out at the 
window, and jestingly tell them, Mrs. Astell was not 
at home. 

By this time she was hecome intimately acquainted 
with many classic authors. Those she admired most 
were Xenophon, Plato, Hierocles, Tully, Seneca, Epic- 
tetus, and M. Antoninus. 

In the year 1700, she published a book entitled Re- 
flections on Marriage, occasioned, as it is said, by a 
disappointment she experienced in a marriage-contract 
with an eminent clergyman. However that might be, in 
the next edition of her book, 1705, she added a preface, 
in answer to some objections, which perhaps is the 
strongest defence that ever appeared in print, of the 
rights and abilities of her own sex. 

Observing, as she thought, the pernicious artifices of 
the sectaries, she attacked them with vigour, and for 
a considerable time engaged the attention of tbe public 
by her productions. Nor was she less assiduous in 
examining and confuting the doctrines of some, who 
pretending to be true sons of the church, were introduc- 
ing dangerous positions and tenets, derogatory to the 
honour of our blessed Saviour, his divinity, &c. 

Among these treatises, she thought none threatened 
more danger to the establishment than Dr. d'Avenant's 
Moderation a Virtu* ; and Essay on Peace and War. 
In answer, and by way of antidote, she gave, in 1704, 
an admirable composition, entitled Moderation truly 
stated, &c. which will be a lasting proof how admirably 
fhe was versed in our constitution both in church and 
state. The same year Dr. d'Avenant published a new 
edition of his works, with remarks on her's, to which 
she immediately replied, in a postscript. However in- 
dustrious she was to conceal herself, the learned soon 
discovered her to be the author, and gave her the ap- 
plause due to her merit. Some very great men bear 
testimony to the merit of her works, such as Hickes, 
Walker, Norris, Dodwell, and Evelyn. The polished 



Atterbury also gives her credit for exerting the pen of 
controversy with masculine force and judgment ; hut 
remarks, that her objections and truths are pushed too 
home, and are expressed, when implication might have 
done as well, and been more poiite. Yet simplicity 
and plainness are, perhaps, more essential in controver- 
sial points than in any other. 

She wrote various other treatises, both on controver- 
sial and religious subjects, particularly, An impartial 
Inquiry into the Causes of Rebellion and Civil Wars in this 
Kingdom, in an Examination of Dr. Kenneth Sermon, 
Jan. SO, 1703-4. A fair Way with Dissenters and their 
Patrons, not writ by Mr. Lindsay,, or any other furious 
Jacobite, whether a -clergyman or a layman ; but by 
a very moderate person and dutiful subject of the 
Queen, 1704. The Christian Religion, as practised by 
a Daughter of the Church of England, 1705. Six fa- 
miliar Essays upon Marriage, Crosses in Love, and 
Friendship, 1706'. Bart'lemy Fair, or an Inquiry af- 
ter Wit, 1700, occasioned by Colonel Hunter's cele- 
brated Letter on Enthusiasm. It was republished in 
1722, without the words * Bart'lemy Fair/ Living and 
conversing with the fashionable world , she led a holy 
life : but though she practised the severest virtue, her 
mind was generally calm and serene, and her deport- 
ment and conversation highly entertaining and facetious. 
She would say, The good Christian only has reason, 
and he always ought to be cheerful ; and that dejected 
looks and melancholy airs were very unseemly in a 

But though she was easy a nd affable to others, she 
was severe towards herself. She was abstemious in 
a very great degree ; frequently living many days toge- 
ther on bread and water : and at other times, when at 
home, rarely eat any dinner till night, - and then 
sparingly. JShe would frequently say, abstinence was 
her best physic. And observe, that those who indulge 
themselves in eating and drinking, could not be so 
E 4 well 


vrell disposed or prepared, either for study, or the re- 
gular and devout service of their Creator. 

She enjoyed an uninterrupted state of health, till a 
few years before her death, when a cancer in her breast, 
which site .concealed from every body, except a few of 
her most intimate acquaintance, impaired her constitu- 
tion veiy much. She managed it herself, till it was 
absolutely necessary to submit to amputation, which 
she endured with the greatest intrepidity. But her 
health and strength, after this, declined apace, arid at 
length being confined to her bed, and finding the time 
of her dissolution drew nigh, she ordered her-cofiin and 
shroud to be made, and brought to her bed-side, as a 
constant memento of her approacking fate, and that her 
mind might not stray one moment from God, its pro- 
per object. Her thoughts were so entirely fixed on an- 
other world, that for some days before her death she 
earnestly desired that no company, not even her dearest 
friends, might be permitted to come to her, that she 
might not be disturbed in her last moments. She was 
buried at Chelsea. 

ATHENAIS, afterwards the Empress Eudocia, Daugh- 
ter of Leontius, a Sophist and Athenian Philosopher. 
Born at Athens about the Year 393 or 400. Died at 
Jerusalem about 466. 

BY the care of her father, Athenais received a most 
elegant and liberal education. To the learning and phi- 
losophy of the Greeks, she added the arts of elocution 
and music, and being likewise exceedingly beautiful, 
her lather,' on his death, left her only one hundred 
pieces of gold ; saying, that her unequalled merit was 
a sufficient portion. Shocked at this unjust distribu- 
tion, and at the scanty resource left to her, who had 
been accustomed to live in affluence, Athenais implored 



her brothers not to insist upon the will, but to per- 
mit her to come in for her share of the inheritance. 
Alive only to interest, they refused her request with 
harshness', and forced her to seek a home with an aunt 
by the mother's side. This lady, in concert with a 
sister of t-eontius, instituted a process against her 
brothers; and, taking her to Constantinople, made the 
princess Pulcheria acquainted with her situation. 

The graceful figure, the fine eyes, and fair curling 
hair of .the suppliant ; her eloquence and modesty, 
strongly interested Pulcheria, who was then seeking a 
wife ibr her brother Theodosius, surnamed the Young ; 
' and when she found her mind so highly gifted, and her 
morals irreproachable, she contrived that he and his > 
friend Paulmus, without her knowledge, should see her 
while conversing with the princess. Theodosius was 
deeply smitten *, she was instructed in the truths of the 
Christian religion, which she embraced in 421, being 
baptized by the name of ^Elia Eudocia, and married to 
the emperor- the .same year, but not declared empress 
till after the birth of her .daughter Eudoxia in 422. 
Hearing of her good fortune, her brothers fled ; but 
causing them to be brought to Constantinople, she 
engaged the emperor to make one prefect of Illyria, and 
to bestow upon the other one of the principal employ- 
ments in the royal palace : <>c I regard you," said she, 
" as the instruments of ^iy elevation. It was not your 
cruelty, but the hand of Providence, which brought 
me here, to raise me to the throne." 

Arrayed in the imperial purple of the east, she forgot not 
her former taste for study. She improved fjerself in Latin 
as well as Greek literature, was mistress both of the ac- 
tive and contemplative parts of philosophy ; perfectly 
understood the art of speaking with elocution, and rea- 
soning with judgment: in all the methods ofprov-- 
ing and conversing by arguments, as well as of re- 
futing opponents, no male philosopher was .ever 
a greater proficient : she attained to a more perfect 

E 4 knowledge 


knowledge of astronomy, of geometry, ancUhe propor- 
tion of numbers, than any could boast of in her 
time, and composed poems which were the admiration 
of her own and many succeeding ages. One mentioned 
by Socrates, was on a victory gained by Theodosius over 
the Persians : she translated into Terse the five books of 
JV{oes, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, the prophecies of Daniel 
and Zechariah. Photius speaks highly of the merit of 
the poetry, and fidelity of the translation ; also a 
^poem in three books, on the martyrs Cyprian and 
Justinia. This poem, almost entire, was found lately 
at Florence, in the library of Laurentius de Medicis. 
*' Who would suspect," says Dupin, " to find a 
woman ranked among ecclesiastical writers ? There have 
been learned women in all ages, but very few divines 
among them. It is still the more to be wondered at, 
that an empress, amidst the pleasures and luxuries of a 
court, should employ herself in writing on theology ?" 

In 438, the empress undertook a journey to Jerusalem, 
to perform a vow she had made on the marriage of her 
daughter. She made magnificent presents to the 
churches, not only of that city, but of all the others, in 
her route. At Antioch, not having forgotten the taste 
for declamation she acquired in the school of her father, 
seated on a throne of gold, enriched with precious 
stones, and in presence of the senate and people, she 
pronounced the eulogium of Jhat city, which ended 
with two verses from Homer, signifying that she was 
proud of deriving her descent from the same source as 
the people of Antioch. Delighted with her munifi- 
cence, and flattered by her courtesy, the inhabitants 
erected a golden statue of herein their senate house, and 
another of bronze in the museum. 

Athenais, or Eudocia,had as yet interfered very little 
in public affairs, which were principally conducted by 
Pulcheria; and, though it added to her own power, 
the latter deplored the inglorious indolence of her bro- 
ther, who always signed every paper presented to him 



without observation. Wishing to show him the folly 
of this conduct, she once gave him a petition, in which 
she asked the empress for her slave, which he also sign- 
ed without reading. On the discovery of this trick, 
the emperor was not pleased, and Eudocia was highly 
offended. Seduced by flatterers, she began to envy the 
influence of Pulcheria, and the latter soon fell into dis- 
grace with the emperor and retired from court. But 
Eudocia, though of the finest capacity, was unskilled 
in the practical part of government ; and felt that she 
was not able to guide the helm, which the steadier 
hands of Pulcheria had held so many years with wisdom 
and success : nor did public misfortunes alone assail 
her ; the emperor became her adversary. 

Paulinus had been his friend from childhood, and 
was now the cherished companion of his riper years. 
His praises of Eudocia had contributed to raise her to 
the throne, and he was more esteemed by both on that 
account. With the most amiable qualities of the 
heart, he possessed a taste for literature, which made her 
prize his conversation highly. 

Theodosius became jealous on some trifling cause and, 
encouraged by his courtiers, found a pretext to send Pau- 
linus to Cesarea, and cause him to be murdered. The em- 
press felt the most lively grief, not merely at the injustice, 
but at the stigma cast on her honour. She withdrew from 
court. Theodosius, filled with black suspicion, at- 
tempted not to recal her. At last, detesting both 
court and diadem, and regretting the obscure life she 
resigned twenty years before, she asked, and easily ob- 
tained permission to retire to Jerusalem. Even there 
the jealousy of the emperor pursued her : and having 
heard that Sever us the priest, and the deacon John, had 
accompanied her in this voluntary exile, he caused them 
to be put to death. Rendered irritable by insults, the 
empress was roused, by this inhuman action, to such an 
excess of fury, that she caused Saturninus (the minis- 
ter of the emperor in this act) to be murdered. This 

E 6 crime 


crime blackened her character, instead of avenging her 
innocence. She lived twenty years longer, touched with 
the truest grief and penitence for that rash act, abound- 
ing in works of benevolence and usefulness, constructing 
churches and monasteries, and conferring many privileges 
on Jerusalem. She was buried in the church of St. 
Stephen, and declared, even when dying, that her union 
with Paulinus had never been criminal ; that she had 
only loved in him the friend of Theodosius, and a gener- 
ous protector, who had seconded the kind designs of 

Histoire du Bas Empire, par le Beau, &c. 

ATHYRTE, Daughter of Sesostris, King of Egypt, 

WAS skilled in all the learning of the times', particularly 
in astronomy, as it was then understood by the Magi. She 
encouraged her father to pursue the chimerical project of 
conquering the world, by assuring him of success from 
her divinations, from her dreams in the temples, and 
from the prodigies she had seen in the air. 

Alexander's History of Women. 

Lady of the Fourth Century, Wife of Michael de Co- 
tignolal and Sister of the great? Sforza, founder of the 
Bouse of the Sforzas, Dukes of Milan. 

OF obscure birth and situation, this family seemed all 
to inherit the same heroic spirit. When James, count 
de la Marche, came to espouse the queen of Naples, 
Sforaa, then grand-constable, was sent to meet him ; but 
that prince threw him, his relations, and suite into pri- 
son, thinking by this means to attain, with more ease, 
the tyrannic power, which he afterwards assumed. 



When the news of Sforza's arrest arrived, his sister, with 
her husband, and many relations who had served with 
honour in his troops, were at Tricarico. They assem- 
bled an army, oi^ which Margaret took the command. 
The ill-treatment the queen experienced from her new 
husband, soon made the revolt general, and he was at 
length besieged in a castle, where the conditions pro- 
posed to him were, to be contented with the title of lieu- 
tenant-general of the kingdom, and give Sforza his 
liberty. Knowing the value of this hostage, he sent de- 
puties to Margaret, menacing him with instant death, 
if Tricarico was not given up to him. Anxious for her 
brother, but indignant at the proposition, she instantly 
formed the resolution of imprisoning the deputies,, 
whose families, alarmed for their safety, ceased not to 
intercede, till the count consented to set Sforza and his 
friends at liberty, and, to re-instate him in his former si- 


of great Wit and Beauty, Wife of Nicholas de Neuville> 

Lord of Villeroi. Died on her own demesne, in 1596. 

THIS lady, whose works were never printed, was 

highly extolled by the great men of the day, particularly 

by Ronsard. She translated, in verse, the epistles of 

Qvid, and wrote a great many original pieces. 

F. c. &c. 

Paris, 1705, aged 50. 

THIS singular and celebrated lady was the daughter 
of Monsieur Jumel de Barneville, descended from one 
of the best families in Normandy, who had served in 
the army with great reputation. Her mother was also 



of distinguished birth ; but, being left a widow 
very young, she married the marquis de Gadaigne, and 
spent the remainder of her days at Madrid, where she 
had obtained a considerable pension of Charles EL 
which was continued to her by Philip V. Her daugh- 
ter, who married the count d'Aulnoy, is described 
as a woman whose amiable character, great talents, 
and lively turn of conversation, made her society sought 
for with avidity ; nothing escaped her penetration. 
Whatever was the subject of conversation, her opi- 
nion was always given with judgment and preci- 
sion ; she wrote -with astonishing facility : a strong 
proof of which are the number of volumes which she 
published. The account she gives of her travels in 
Spain, is written with a great deal of spirit, charac- 
ter, and incident. In her Memoires de la Cour d'Espagne* 
she relates every circumstance worthy of observation 
that passed at the court of Charles the Second. Les 
Memoires de la Cour d 1 Angleterre , likewise relates some 
singular anecdotes which happened in the reign of our 
Charles the Second ; but as it does not appear she 
ever was in England , they are, most likely, chiefly from 
report and invention, which the intriguing spirit then 
prevalent gave sufficient grounds for. Her Me- 
moires Historiques of Europe, from 1672 to 1679, are 
part fiction, and part truth. Her romances are still 
read witrf interest They are Adventures of Hypo- 
lytus, Earl of Douglas ; an historical one of John de 
Bourbon, Prince of Carency, 1692, and Tales of the 
Fairies, in 4 vols.-Her daughter, Madam de *Heere, like- 
wise wrote with applause in prose and verse. 

Memoirs of French Ladies by Mrs. Thickness. 

BAAT, (CATHERINE) a learned Swedish Lady of 

the 17th Century, 

WHO wrote genealogical tables of distinguished fa- 
lailies, ornamented and painted by herself ; in which 



she has rectified the faults of a former genealogist. This 
work is highly spoken of by the literati of Swsden, but 
has not been made public. 

F. C. 

BACON, (Lady ANNE) second Daughter of Anthony 
Coke, was born probably at Giddy-hall,, in Essex, about 
1528 ; Wife of the Lord-keeper, Sir Nicholas Bacon > 
and Mother of the illustrious Francis Bacon. 

SHE had a liberal education; and, having added 
much acquired knowledge to great natural endowments, 
made an eminent figure among the literati of that pe- 
riod, and hence acquired so extraordinary a reputation, 
that it has been faid she was constituted governess to Ed- 
ward VI. If this be a fact, it is a very surprising one; 
since she could not be much more than twenty- five 
years of age at the death of that young monarch, and 
only nineteen when he began to reign. However that 
may be, it is certain that she early became distinguished 
for piety, virtue, and learning, and that she was 
skilled in the Greek, Latin, and Italian languages. 
Before she married Sir Nicholas Bacon, she had given 
to the world a specimen of her literary industry, in 
translating, out of Italian into English, twenty-five 
sermons, written by Bernardine Ochine, a celebrated di- 
vine of that age, concerning the predestination and 
election of God, published about 1550. Not longaft*er 
her marriage, she again exerted herself, much to her 
own honour, and to the advantage of her country. 
The masterly pen of Bishop Jewel had been employed 
in drawing up in the Latin tongue, an Apology for the 
Church of England. As the book made a great noise in 
the world, and excited no small degree of alarm among 
the advocates of the Popish communion, the common 
people of England were earnestly desirous of becoming 
acquainted with its contents. And lady Bacon deter- 
mined to gratify the curiosity, and promote the edifica- 


tion of her country men, by translating the work ; which 
she is said to have done, not only in a faithful, but 
in an elegant manner, considering the tinqe. When 
finished, she sent the copy to archbishop Parker, 
for his perusal, as a person to whom the care of 
the church of England and of its doctrines chiefly 
belonged. Another copy was sent by her to 
bishop Jewel, to be overlooked by him, lest she 
should, in any point, have mistaken his meaning. 
The translation was accompanied by an epistle in 
Greek, which he answered in the same language. Both 
the bishop and the archbishop, after reading over 'the 
version, found it to be so correct as not to require the 
alteration of a sipgle word, and returned it to her in 
print, to prevent the delay which her modesty might 
occas'on in the publication, which took place i 1564, 4to. 
and again in 1600, 12mo. A letter written to her by 
the archbishop on the occasion, and which is preserved 
by Ballard, is highly to her honour. That her literary 
reputation extended beyond her own country, is evi- 
dent, from the famous Theodore Beza's dedication of 
his Meditations to her. 

Jn Birch's Memoirs of the reign of queen Eliza- 
beth, lady Bacon's name frequently occurs ; and we 
there meet with some of her letters at full length, and 
with extracts from others, which fully justify the fol- 
lowing character given of her by the historian now men- 
tioned. " She frequently introduces Greek as well aa 
Latin into her letters, sometimes with a view of secresy, 
but, more commonly, from the custom of that age, 
wherein such an intermixture of languages had less the 
air of pedantry and affectation than it would have in 
the present. She was very strict in the duties of piety, 
and inclined to the principles of the puritans, to whom 
her husband had not been thought unfavourable : but her 
temper seems to have been severe and peevish, especi- 
ally in the latter years of her life, when it was probably 
affected by her ill health. Her advice and remon- 


Btrances to her elder son Anthony, were generally de- 
livered in a style of authority, and in terms of reproach, 
which rendered them less acceptable and effectual than 
otherwise they might have been." 

She survived her husband, and was living in 1591. 
It is probable she died about the beginning of the reign 
of king James I. at Gorhainbury, near St. Alban'^, in 
Hertfordshire, and lies buried in 'St. Michael's church 
there, but without any monument or inscription to her 

Female Worthies ; New Ann. Register. 


Foundress of the Order of the reformed Bernardine 
Nuns, and of many other religious Establishments in 
France and Savoy. Born in 1591, at Vauchi, near 
Geneva, died 1G68, aged 77, 

WAS daughter of a gentleman of the bedchamber to 
Charles Emanuel, duke of Savoy. She was early de- 
voted, by her parents, to a religious life; at seven 
years of age, being sent to a convent, where a rela- 
tion was the superior, and where she took the habit of 
the order. St. Frances de Sales, who was of her fa- 
mily, contributed not a little to increase her zeal. She 
soon became interested in reforming the rules arid man- 
ners of religious establishments, which, according to her 
notions of self-denial and mortification, were not suf- 
ficiently severe. She was elected abbess at Rumilli, a 
little town in Savoy, and afterwards obtained permis- 
sion to name her new order, * Daughters of Provi- 
dence.' She travelled to different monasteries, spread- 
ing every where her new regulations, which were 
sometimes adopted by others : but she was much hurt 
by the republication of her institutions by a Parisian 
abbess, who ventured to make some alterations, whe* 

. ther 


ther judicious- or otherwise cannot be said ; but Louisa 
Ballon was much displeased at it. 


BARBE, a Virgin and Martyr ofNicomedia, in Asia 
M inor, flourished in the Reign of Maximin. 

HER father was a Pagan, rich and of illustrious 
birth. To beauty, Barbe joined fine taste and a culti- 
vated mind, ^which felt dissatisfaction at the fables im- 
posed on her belief. Scorning idols, and zealous to 
know the Creator of all things, she learned that a wise 
man of Alexandria, named Origen, preached an only 
and true God. Filled with joy at the news, she wrote 
to him secretly, to engage him to instruct her in the re- 
ligion he professed. His answer, brought by a priest 
named Valentine, so satisfied her mind, that she was 
baptized by him. With the advantages she possessed, 
she was sought in marriage by the most distinguished 
young men in the city ; and Dioscorus, her father, one 
day told her, it was time to think of changing her situa- 
tion : but she prayed him not to constrain her to make 
a choice, observing that she would rather die: she then 
discovered her religion to him, and spoke with con- 
tempt of Paganism. Irritated at the discovery, her fa- 
ther himself denounced her as a Christian; and, after 
her experiencing the most cruel and barbarous punish- 
ment, he is reported to have himself severed her head 
from her body. 

F. C. 

BARBIER, (MARIANNE) a learned French Lady, 
born at Orleans; died 1745, 

WAS early distinguished for her attachment to litera- 
ture ; and her poetical productions, which showed great 



fertility of genius, and were composed in a pleasing and 
elegant stile. She wrote much ; two of her odes, one, 
on Wisdom, and the other on Beauty, are highly- 
esteemed. Encouraged by success, she fixed her resi- 
dence at Paris, and began to write for the theatre. 
Her plays, though not of the first order, were applauded 
by the public. They consisted of five tragedies, a co- 
medy, and three musical pieces. The first were Arria 
and Pcetus, represented in 1702 ; Cornelia, Mother of 
the Gracchi, in 1703 ; Tomyris, in 1707, and the Death 
vf Ccesar ; the fifth, named Joseph, was never either 
performed or printed. Her comedy, le Falcon, was 
brought forward in 1719- The three operas were les 
Fetes de PEte ; le Jugement de Paris-, and les Plaisirs de 
la Campagne. 

The friendship which subsisted between Mademoi- 
selle Barbier and 1'Abbe Pellegrin, made her enemies 
attribute her theatrical works to him. But as her wit 
and poetical talents were before conspicuous, there is 
no reason to suppose her incapable of writing them ; 
and their success with the public, with then- number, 
rendered it improbable the real author sacrificed them to 
her. F. c. 


BARONI, (LEONORA) famous for her fine Voice and 
musical Talents, was born at Naples ; but passed the 
greatest Part of her Life at Rome, 

WAS the daughter of A driani Baroni , an excellent female 
singer of Mantua. With less beauty than her mother, 
Leonora excelled her in the sweetness and power of her 
voice, and had a more profound knowledge of music. She 
hadagood understanding and a 4) leasing talent for poetry; 
and, what was still more, her conduct was without 



reproach. In a treatise on the Music of Italy, pub- 
lished at Paris, in 1672, she is said, from her know- 
ledge of musical composition, perfectly to have under- 
stood what she sung, and to have pronounced the 
words clear and full. She sung with modest confidence 
and gravity. The powers of her voice were extensive, 
true, sweet, and clear ; sinking and rising without 
effort and without grimace. Her whole deportment 
was dignified by a noble simplicity, neither conta- 
minated by design or affectation, corrupted by the 
flatteries of the gay, or the poetical applauses of the 

Her poems appear in different collections. 


BARRE, (MADAME) Mistress of Lewis XV. King 
of France, 

A WEAK and licentious character, who became a vic- 
tim to the guillotine, on account of her riches, which 
awakened the rapacity of the revolutionary faction. 

F, G. 

CESELI) Wife of. 

THE town of Leucates, in Languedoc, being besieged 
by the faction of the league in 1590, M. de Barri, who 
was the governor, was taken prisoner, under pre- 
tence of demanding an interview with him. He, how- 
ever, contrived, at the moment, to write to his wife, 
whose talents and courage he was well acquainted with. 
He begged her to take the command of the town, and 
to defend it to the last extremity. Not losing a mo- 
ment's time, she obeyed him, maintaining order and 
shewing herself often upon the walls with a pike in her 



hand, encouraging the garrison by her example. 
When the assailants perceived her plans and intrepidity, 
they sought to intimidate her by threatening to put 
her husband to death, if she did not give up the place. 
She had large possessions, and offered all willingly to 
ransom him ; but said she would not buy even his life 
by an act of perfidy, at which he would blush. They 
put him likewise to the most cruel tortures, that he 
might command his wife to open the gates to them ; 
but he braved their menaces ; and, being obliged to 
raise the siege, they were atrocious enough to strangle 

On receiving this news, Madame de Barri was struck 
with grief and horror ; but feeling that a Christian 
must not give "way to vengeance, she opposed the 
wishes of the garrison to make reprisals on some gen- 
tlemen who were their prisoners ; and, in the hour of 
anguish, exerted herself to save their lives. 

To do honour to her virtue, Henry IV. commanded 
her still to enjoy the government of Leucates, which 
she held for twenty-seven years. 

F C. 

BARTOLI, (MINERVA! an Italian Poetess of 

OF repute at the end of the sixteenth and beginning 
of the seventeenth century. 

BARTON, (ELIZABETH) commonly called The holy 
Maid of Kent, 

WAS servant to one Thomas Knob, of Aldington, in 
Kent, 1525, about which time she was troubled with 
hysterical fits, which threw her body into terrible con- 
vulsions, the contortions of which she preserved after 



her cure ; and it was no difficult matter, in an age of 
credulity, to make people believe there was something 
more in her fits than a bare paroxysm of the disease. 
The affair reaching the ears of one Masters, the parson 
of Aldington, he immediately thought of setting her up 
for a prophetess, in hopes thereby of propping the sink- 
ing foundation of the Romish church ; or, at least, to 
make his own chapel famous, and reap the advantages 
of pilgrimages, offerings, &c. _ To this end, his first 
care was to persuade her to believe, she had a super- 
natural impulse, and that what she said was truly pro- 
phetic. The distemper holding for some time, she had 
an opportunity of attaining such perfection in counter- 
feiting her fits, that, when cured, she could so ex- 
actly imitate them as to deceive any body ; for, hav- 
ing by her art brought the fit upon her, she would 
lie as it were in a trance for some time, then coming to 
herself (after many strange grimaces and odd gesticula- 
tions) she would break out into devout ejaculations, 
&c. pretending to prophesy, and see visions, &c. and 
was always particularly vehement against heresy and 

This artful management, together with her pretended 
piety, deceived not only the common people, but several 
learned men. Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, or- 
dered Masters to attend her carefully, and joined with 
him Dr. Bocking, a canon of Christchurch, in Canter- 
bury, and others, to examine further into the affair. 
But notwithstanding this piece of outward ceremony, 
Warham, who was a zealous catholic, was not a little 
suspected, with some others, of countenancing the im- i 
posture under hand. She said, the blessed virgin had 
appeared to her, and told her, that she could never 
recover, till she went and visited her image in the fa- 
mous chapel that was dedicated to her, and called the 
Chapel of our Lady of Court-street. Accordingly, the 
day being made public, a mob of about 3000 people 
attended her there, as did likewise several persons of 



quality of both sexes, and the commissioners made a part 
of the procession. 

At her entrance, she was saluted in a hymn with 
Ave regma ccelorum when she came before the image 
she tell down in one of her trances, delivering therein 
rhimes, speeches, &c. all tending to the honour of 
that saint and the Pooish religion, and that she 
was called, by the inspiration of God, to be a reli- 
gious, and that it was the will of our lady that Bock- 
ing should be her ghostly father. 

It was now given out, that she was miraculously 
recovered of her former distemper ; and, on the report 
made by the commissioners, the archbishop ordered her 
to be placed in the nunnery of St. Sepulchre, in Canter- 
bury, where she still carried on the imposture ; but 
the Romish clergy being apprehensive, that the king's 
marriage with Anne Boleyn would be detrimental to 
their religion, they set every instrument at work to pre- 
vent it ; and among the rest, Bocking and her other as- 
sociates prevailed upon her- to threaten the king with 
death, or the loss of his crown. 

' Elated with her former success, and the credit she 
had in the world for sanctity, she was hardy enough to 
be governed by this advice, and made no scruple to de- 
clare publicly, that in case the king proceeded in the 
divorce, and married another wife, while queen Cathe- 
rine was living, he should not be king of England a 
month longer, but should die a villain's death. This 
she said was revealed to her in answer to a prayer she 
made to God, to know whether he approved of the 
king's proceeding or not. This was blazed by the 
bishop of Rochester, and the queen's adherents through- 
out the kingdom, whose boldness and zeal incensed the 
king, who had hitherto despised her menaces, to or- 
der that, in November 1533, Elizabeth and her accom- 
plices should be brought to the Star-chamber. 

Upon their examination, they all, without any 
rack or torture, confessed the whole to be a contrivance 



and imposture, and were first sentenced to stand at St. 
Paul's cross, on a scaffold built for the purpose, all 
sermon time; and afterwards the king's officers were to 
give every one of them their bill of confession, to be 
openly and publicly read by each, before the people-, 
which was done the Sunday after; the bishop <ef Ban- 
gor preaching, and giving an account of their treason- 
able practices. From thence -they were carried to the 
Tower, where they lay till the meeting of the parliament, 
during which time some of their accomplices sent 
messages to the nun, to encourage her to deny all she 
had said. 

The thing being considered in parliament, it was 
judged a conspiracy against the king's life and crown. 
Elizabeth, Masters, Bocking, Deering, Bisby and Gold, 
were attainted of high treason ; and Fisher, bishop of 
Rochester, and some others, among whom was Sir 
Thomas More, who had simply had the curiosity to go 
and see her, of misprision of treason, to forfeit their 
goods and chattels to the king, and be imprisoned dur- 
ing his pleasure. But all others, who had been cor- 
rupted in their allegiance by these impostors, were, at 
the intercession of the new queen, pardoned. 

On the 21st of April, 1534, ( Elizabeth and her ac- 
complices were drawn to Tyburn, where she made a 
speech, acknowledged her crime, and the justice of 
her sentence, and was then executed with the others, 
who were all beheaded, and their heads set up at dif- 
ferent parts of the town. Her head, Stowe says, was 
set upon London-bridge. 

Female Worthies. 

BASSEPORTE, (MAGDALEN) a French'Artist of the 
last Century, 

FROM her childhood, followed the art of painting, 
and excelled in birds, plants, flowers, insects, reptiles-, 



and almost all that belongs to natural history. Her 
works are regarded as chefs -d'oeuvre, where art rivals 
nature for correctness in design, for delicacy and pre- 
cision of colours. In 17S8, though 78 years of age; this 
indefatigable artist still ventured to expose herself, for 
whole days, to the rays of the sun, in the most painful 
attitudes, to copy, for the cabinet of the king, any thing 
that nature offered to her view of beautiful or rare in the 
royal gardens. 


BASSI, (LAURA) an Italian Lady, Native of Bologna, 
of great Virtue and Learning, 

RECEIVED a liberal education, not only in the more 
common accomplishments of the sex, but in the sci- 
ences and learned languages. Her singular attainments 
procured her, in 1732, the honourable title of Doctor of 
Philosophy. In 174.5, she began to read lectures on 
experimental philosophy ; which she continued to do 
till her death, in 1778. She married Dr. Joseph 

Watkins's Biographical Dictionary. 

BATILDA, Queen of France, Wife of Clovis IL cfe- 
scended from the Saxon Princes of England. Died 
680, aged 45. 

THIS princess was stolen by the Danes or Normans, 
who ravaged all the maritime coasts of Europe, pillaged 
the houses of the inhabitants, and carried into captivity 
all they met with. She was taken to France, bought 
by Archambaud, mayor of the palace, and made cup- 
bearer at his table. The youth, the beauty, and mo- 
dest graces of the young slave, awakened the warmest 
admiration in the bosom of her master: he. gave her 
her liberty, and, on the death of his wife, offered her 

F his 


his hand. But, remembering her high birth, Batilda 
thought that of a subject unworthy of her. Yet she 
refused it with such address, that the pride which in- 
fluenced her was not suspected. He redoubled his im- 
portunities, to avoid which she retired to a more distant 
situation, which she never left, till he took another 
wife. Visiting this lady, she was seen by the young 
king, who fell passionately in love with her. At that 
time they w r ere not scrupulous about alliances. Clovis 
espoused the fair Batilda, whose beauty raised her to 
the- throne, and whose .merit deserved it. She became 
a mother to the poor and a consolation to the distressed; 
shewing. her power only by her beneficence. 

After the death of the king, Batilda was regent and 
guardian of her children ; Clothair III. Childeric II. and 
Thierry III. She governed the kingdom wisely during 
the minority of the first; but "suspicions, jealousies, 
and fatal enmities arising between her ministers, she 
became disgusted with the court and its intrigues, and 
executed a project she had long formed, of retiring into 
an abbiiy near Paris, which she had founded. She there 
took the habit of a nun, and submitted to the abbess 
bhe had established, with the greatest humility and 
cheerfulness. Batilda was canonised by Pope Ni- 
cholas I. 

Letters of St. Foix ; &c. 

BAUDONIVIA, a Nun at Poictiers, at the End of 

the 6th and beginning of the 7 th Century, 
WAS educated in the monastery of St. Croix, at Poic- 
tiers, founded by Radegonda. This princess wished the 
nuns belonging^ to it, to be equally respectable for 
piety and knowledge; and Baudonivia, entering into the 
views of the foundress, attached herself to the sciences. 
On the death of Radegonda in 587, she was intreated 
to write her life, which had been already done by a bi- 


shop. Baudonivia confined herself merely to notice 
what he had omitted. Her work remains in the first 
volume of the Acts of the Saints of St. Eenoit. 


BAUX, (HUGUETTE DE) a Provencal Poetess, 
Maid of Honour to Ermengarde, Countess of Foix, 
and afterwards Wife of the Lord of Aulps, in Pro- 
SHE was much celebrated by a famous troubadour, or 

minstrel, named Pere Roger; and, being suspected of 

looking upon him with too favourable an eye, lie was 

assassinated by some of her relations. 

F. c. 

BAYNARD, (ANNE) Daughter of Dr. E. Baynard, 
a Gentleman of good Family and Fellow of the Royal 
College of Physicians in London. Born* at Preston, 
in Lancashire, in 1672 ; died at Barnes, in Surry^ 
1697, aged 25. 

HER father, observing her genius and natural pro- 
pensity to learning, gave her a very liberal education, 
of which she made the best use. 

" As for learning," says the Rev. J. Prude, in his 
funeral sermon, " whether it ,be to know and under- 
stand natural causes and events, the courses of the 
sun, moon, and stars, the qualities of herbs and 
plants ; to be acquainted with the demonstrable varie- 
ties of the mathematics; the study of philosophy, the 
writings of the ancients, and that in their own proper lan- 
guage, without the help of an interpreter ; these, and 'the 
like, are the most noble accomplishments of the human 
mind, and accordingly do bring great delight and satis- 
faction along with them ; these things she was not 

I 2 only 


only conversant in, but mistress of; and that to such a 
degree that very few of her sex did ever arrive at." 

She took the greatest pains to perfect her knowledge 
in the Greek tongue, that she might with greater plea- 
sure read St. Chrysostom in his own language. She 
was not satisfied with reading only; but composed 
many things in the Latin tongue. She would often say, 
" It was a sin to be contented with a little knowledge/' 
She was skilled in reasoning, and eager to maintain the 
pure principles of Christianity, against innovators and 

She used to say, " Human learning is worth no- 
thing, unless as a hand-maid it leads us to the knowledge 
of Christ revealed in the gospel, as our Lord and Sa- 

She was a constant frequenter of the sacrament and 
prayers of the church ; never missing, unless hindered 
by illness, to which, m the latter part of her life, she 
was very subject. She was fond of retirement, as it 
led her to think of death, which she regarded with- 
out dread, and loved to meditate upon. Her charity, 
which her circumstances bounded as to the sum, was 
always given with cheerfulness and alacrity. Whatever 
her allowance was, she laid aside a portion of it to 
charitable and pious uses. She had a love for the souls 
of her fellow creatures ; and was heartily afflicted with 
the errors, follies, and vices of the age : to see that 
*' those who called themselves Christians, should, by 
bad principles and worse practice, dishonour their pro- 
fession, and not only hazard their salvation, but that of 
their weak brother too, for whom Christ died. And 
this temper of mind made her not only importunate in 
her intercessions for the good of the world, but gave her 
courage and discretion above her years or sex, to be- 
nefit the souls of those she conversed with, by friendly 
reproof, good counsel, or some learned or pious dis- 

Just before her^death, she wished " that all young peo- 


pie might be exhorted to the practice of virtue, to in- 
crease their knowledge hy the practice of philosophy, 
and, more especially, to read the great book of nature, 
\\ herein they might see the wisdom and power of the 
great Creator in the order of the universe, and in the 
production and preservation of all things. It would 
tix in their minds a love to so much perfection, frame 
a divine idea and an awful regard of God, which 
heightens devotion, lowers the spirit of pride, and 
gives a habit and disposition to his service; it makes 
us tremble at folly and profaneness, and command * 
reverence and prostration to his great and holy 

" That women," says she, " are capable of such 
improvements, which will better their judgments and 
understandings, is past all doubt ; would they but set. 
to it in earnest, and spend but half of that time in 
study and thinking, which they do in visits, vanity, and 
folly, it would introduce a composure of mind, and lay 
a sound basis and ground work for wisdom and know- 
ledge ; by which they would be better enabled to serve 
God, and help their neighbours." 

The character which Mr. Collier has given her, in 
his great Historical Dictionary, though short, is so com- 
prehensive, as to take in some particulars not noticed 
by Mr. Prude. " Anne Baynard," says he, " v for her 
prudence, piety, and learning, deserves to have her 
name perpetuated ; being not only well skilled in 
the learned languages, but in all manner of learning 
and philosophy, without vanity or affectation. Her 
words were few, well chosen, and expressive. She was 
seldom seen to smile, being rather of a reserved and 
stoical disposition ; which sect of philosophers she most 
affected ; their doctrine, in most parts, seeming agree- 
able to her natural temper ; for she never read or spake 
of them but with a sort of delight and pleasingness in her 
countenance : she had a contempt of the world, especially 
of the fmery and gaiety of life : she had a great regard 
F 3 and 


and veneration for* the sacred name of God, and made 
it the whole business of her life to promote his honour 
and glory; and the great end of her study was, to en- 
counter atheists and libertines, as may be seen by 
some severe satires written in the Latin tongue, in 
which language she had a great readiness and fluency 
of expression, which made a gentleman of no small 
parts and learning say to her, 

" Anna gens solis mea, Annam gens Belgica jactet ; 
At superas Annas, Anna Baynarda, dnas." 

BEALE, (MARY) a Portrait Painter in the Reign of 
Charles II. Daughter of Mr. Cradock> Minister of 
Walton-upon-Thames , but born in Suffolk, 1631, died 
1697, aged 6(3. 

THIS lady was assiduous in copying the works of Sir 
Peter Lely and Vandyke whose manner, as well as that 
of the ancient masters, she was very successful in imita- 
ting. She painted in oil, water-colours, and crayons, 
and was much respected and patronized, particularly by 
the most eminent among the clergy. The author of an 
essay towards an English school of painters, says, that 
tc she was little inferior to any of her cotemporaries, 
either in colouring, strength, force, or life; insomuch, 
that Sir Peter Lely was greatly taken with her perform- 
ances, as he would often acknowledge." She worked 
with a wonderful body of colours, and was exceedingly 
industrious. Some of her pictures remain at the earl of 
Ilchcster's, at Melbury, in Dorsetshire, and are most fre- 
quently distinguished by a stone-coloured frame. Her 
price was five guineas for a head in oils, and ten for a 
half-length. It in general brought in more than two 
hundred a-year; and a deduction of two shillings in the 
pound was made for charitable purposes. In Dr. S. 
Woodford's translation of the Psalms, are two or 



three versions of particular ones by her. She had two 
sons, who for some time practised painting. There 
is an engraving of Mrs. Beaie, by Chambers, from a por- 
trait done by herself, in Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting 
in England. 

New Blotrraphical Dictionary } &c. 

BEAUFORT, (MARGARET) Countess of Richmond 
and Derby. Born at Bletilioe, in Bedfordshire, 1444, 
died 1509, aged 68. 

ONLY daughter and heir of the duke of Somerset, sprung 
from John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster. She marritd 
Edmund earl of Richmond, half-brother of Henry \ i. 
son of Sir Owen Tudor, and Catherine of France, re- 
lict of Henry V. By him she had one son, afterwards 
Henry VII. On her first husband's death, ?he espoused 
Sir Henry Stafford, and afterwards Lord Stanley; but 
had no children by either, so that Henry was the sole 
heir of all her possessions. 

This illustrious lady must be mentioned both as an au- 
thor attd patroness of letters : she was the third female 
writer England produced. By the course of her educa- 
tion, she was tolerably qualified fora studious life. She 
attained a perfect acquaintance with the French lan- 
guage, and had some skill in the Latin; but lamented 
that she had not rendered herself a complete mistress of 
it in her youth. A fine library was collected by her, not 
for the purpose of ornament, the gratification of vanity, 
or ostentation, but for use She wkhed to enrich her 
mind with valuable knowledge; and it contained the 
best Latin, Fr-nch, and English books, of which she 
could at that time acquire the possession Her works 
Were of the devotional kind, and for the most part trans- 
lations. One was the Fourth Book of Dr. John Ger- 
.M' s Treatise on the Imitation of Christ, translated from 
F 4 th<-. 


the French:, another was entitled, The Mirror of GoMe 
for the Sinful Souk. It had been originally written in 
Latin, under the title of Speculum Aureum Peccatorum ; 
but it was from the French that the countess of Rich- 
mond made her translation. She likewise drew up, at 
the desire of the king her son, and by his authority, or- 
ders with regard to the precedence of great apd noble 
ladies at public processions, and particularly at fu- 

But it is not on her character as a writer, that the 
countess's real reputation is grounded. This must be 
sought for in her munificent institutions, for the encou- 
ragement of piety and learning. She appointed and en- 
dowed two public lectures in divinity, one at Oxford, 
and the other at Cambridge. At the last university, 
she made provision for a preacher, to deliver at least six 
sermons every year, in several churches belonging to 
the dioceses of London, Ely, and Lincoln; and she 
founded a free grammar-school at Winborne, in Dorset- 
shire. These were only the beginnings of the lady Mar- 
garet's benefactions. In 150(5, she completed the foun- 
dation of Christ's College, Cambridge, and provided so 
plentifully for it, out of her own lands and possessions, 
that her revenues alone afford a maintenance for a master, 
twelve fellows, and forty-seven scholars. A judgment 
may be formed of the succeeding usefulness and reputa- 
tion of this institution, when it is observed, that, among 
the other learned ornaments of it, the names may be 
reckoned of Leland, Broughton, Ames, Mede, Cud- 
worth, More, Burnet, Outram, Lightfoot, Milton, 
Howe, and Sanderson. 

Having displayed so much bounty at Cambridge, she 
was disposed to "extend her beneficence to distant places, 
and other objects : but, through the influence of John 
Fisher, bishop of Rochester, who had been her confessor 
and chaplain, she was prevailed upon to carry still far- 
ther her patronage to her favourite university. Accord- 
ingly, she became the foundress of St. John's College, 



but died before the design was completed. Her execu- 
tors, however, were zealous and speedy in fulfilling the 
purposes of her will. It is needless here to enumerate 
the many illustrious names this college can likewise boast 

She was buried in Westminster-abbey. Her charities 
and the humility which made her not disdain the lowest 
offices of kindness to the poor, efface the remembrance 
of her superstition and mistaken zeal, which regretted the 
times of the crusades. 

New Annual Register, &c. 

BEAUJEU, (ANNE, LADY OF) Regent of France, 
Duchess of Bourbon, Daughter of Lewis XL Born 

THIS princess was so distinguished for her political 
knowledge, that her father feared to give her a husband 
with a mind firm and enterprising like her own, lest he 
should render her too powerful. For this reason, he 
married her to Peter of Bourbon, count of Beau jeu, a 
man of an indolent temper and narrow mind. The con- 
fidents of Anne said, that " to marry her to such a hus- 
band, was to unite the living to the dead!" Notwith- 
standing this, she lived happily with him, and he gave 
place, willingly, to her superior talents. Though, dur- 
ing his life, Lewis XI. had been jealous of the abilities of 
his daughter, he believed, that after his death, she alone 
could rule the factious nobility, and make her brother 
Charles VIII. reign in peace. Dying, he left her, by 
will, the regency of the kingdom, till her brother, theii 
only thirteen years of age, became old enough to govern 
by himself. 

Anne thought it a point of honour to fulfil the ex- 
pectations of her father, so that the people should not 
murmur at his choice ; but the appointment of Lewis was 

F 5 disputed 


disputed by the duke of Orleans, afterwards Lewis 
XII. presumptive heir to the crown ; but yet young 
and inexperienced ; and by the duke of Bourbon, prince 
of the blood also, who was sixty years of age, and 
respected for the services he had rendered the state. In 
these delicate circumstances, the countess behaved with 
admirable prudence. She engaged them to leave the 
decision to the states, and afterwards gained over the 
duke of Bourbon, by her eloquence, and by granting 
him the place of constable of France. 

After obtaining this 'advantage, Anne was not idle ; 
and her plans succeeded so well, that her regency was 
confirmed. The duke of Orleans was so much hurt by 
this affront, that his resentment against the countess 
led him, in an unguarded moment, to speak disrespect- 
fully of her, even in the presence. Sensible of his im- 
prudence, he fled to the duke d'Alengon, and a civil war 
ensued. The duke of Orleans was made captive at the 
battle of St. Aubin, and Anne kept him in prison for 
three years. 

It was her ambition to unite Brittany to France; 
and on the death of its duke, Francis II. she effect- 
ed her purpose by the marriage of Charles VIIL 
with Anne, his daughter and heiress. The brilliancy 
of this action was diminished by the restitution of Rous- 
sillon and la Cerdaigne, to the king of Spain, without 
exacting the payment of the money lent upon it. It is said 
a monk, who was her confessor, gained by Ferdinand, 
made her believe, that the soul of her father could not 
come out of purgatory till this was done. It is more ra- 
tional to believe this wise princess was either influenced 
by political motives, now unknown or felt that it was 

On the death of Charles VIII . in 1498, the duke of 
Orleans mounted the throne : and it was supposed Anne 
would suffer from his resentment ; but Lewis nobly de- 
clared, that the king of France could not revenge the 



duke of Orleans. He did not even deprive her of tlie place 
she held in council. 


BEAUMER, (MADAME DE) an ingenious French 

Deprived of fortune and personal ad vantages, Madame 
de Beaumer took infinite pains to supply that loss, by 
cultivating her understanding. She was nearly related 
to Marshal Belle Isle; but we do not find that she re- 
ceived any succours from him for, after spending many 
years in extreme poverty in Holland, this poor lady 
ended a miserable life there, in 1166. 

She assisted, some time, at the Journal des Dames; 
and there is a little work of hers in 12mo. which is called 
(Euvres Melees. 

Amongst her other compositions, there is a romance 
called Les Caprices de la Fortune, which she calls an 
historical novel, being founded on a fact. It is written 
with great feeling, and in an easy unaffected stile. She 
wrote many allegorical pieces also. 

Mrs. Thicknesse's Memoirs of French Lad it 1 -. 


ONE cannot say more in praise of this lady's writings 
than that they are in the hands of every body. With 
the graces of stile, they join good sense and solid rea- 
soning. Her sentiments on education, particularly, arc 
worthy of the general admiration they meet with. 

She was born at Paris about the- year 1711. She lived 
many years in England, where she chiefly employed her 
time in writing upon different subjects. Those of her 
works which are held in the greatest estimation, are en- 
titled, Magazin des En fans; Magazin des Adolescens\ 



Magazin des Jeunes Dames ; and Nouveau Magazin An~ 

' In educating youth," says Madame de Beaumont, 
" it is absolutely necessary, in forming their young minds 
to virtue, never to separate religion and reason ; one must 
be dependent on the other: for the support of which, it 
is of the utmost importance to study the Holy Scriptures, 
\vhichare alone capable of inspiring us with a just idea 
of the Eternal Being, the recompense!* of virtue, and the 
avenger of crimes." 

This celebrated writer has very judiciously blended 
entertainment \s*ith instruction, by putting it in the form 
of Dialogues between a governess and her pupils, whose 
different characters, dispositions, and tempers are well 
sustained, '['here are many very entertaining stories intro- 
duced 'in the course of their conversation, applicable to 
the subject, and a variety of authors quoted, to give 
weight to their arguments. The beauty of every virtue 
is pointed out, and set in the most advantageous light, 
in order to inspire the young mind with true sentiments 
of honour, humanity, and universal charity; or rather, 
that compassionate" interest for the feelings of others, 
which is called benevolence. 

Her other works are, Instructions pour les Jeunes 
Dames qui enirent dans le Monde ; Lettres de Madame 
du Man tin] Lettres diverges ; Cyran, $c- 

Mrs. Thicknesse's Memoirs of French Ladies. 


WIFE of a celebrated advocate at Paris, known by an 
excellent novel, called Lettres du .Marquis de Roselle, 
3 vols. 1765, and a supplement to it, called Lettres de 
Sophie et du Chevalier J). 

F. C. 



BECTOZ, (CLAUDE DE) Daughter of a Gentleman 
in Dauphiny^ Abbess of Honore de Tarrascon. Died 

APPEARED, in her early years, of such a promising 
genius, that a monk, named Denis Fauchier, determined 
to teach her Latin and the Belles Lettres. In a little 
time she made so great a progress, that she equal- 
led the most learned men of the age. Her Latin and 
French poems, letters, and treatises, for acuteness 
and solidity have been classed with those of the an- 
cient philosophers. She maintained a correspondence 
with many learned men in France and Italy. Francis I. 
her sovereign, was not contented to write to her; he car- 
ried her letters about with him, and shewed them to the 
ladies of the court, as proper models for imitation ; and, 
being at Avignon, went to see her, as did his sister Mar- 
garet, queen of Navarre. She died the same day as 
this monarch, and also Henry VIII. of England. On 
becoming a nun, she took the name of Scholastica. 


BEHN, (APHRA) poetically called Astrea, an English 
Poetess and Novel-writer. Born in the Reign of 
Charles I. died, after a long Illness , 1689. 
DAUGHTER of a gentleman of good family in Canter- 
bury, of the name of Johnson, who, being lieutenant-ge- 
neral of Surinam, &c. embarked with his family for the 
West-Indies, at which time A phra was very young. Her 
father died on the passage; but the rest arrived at Su^ 
rinam, where the natural beauties of the situation allotted 
them , seem to have first awakened her poetical powers ; 
and perhaps the luxurious indulgence and state of their 
way of life, helped to give her that taste for pleasure, 
which she afterwards retained. Here she became ac- 
quainted with the American prince Oroonoko, whose 



story she afterwards gave to the public, from which 
Southerne took his play of the Royal Captive. He 
and his wife Climene, or Imoinda, were almost con- 
stantly with her. Some censures were passed on her 
respecting this intimacy ; but it appears to have been 
without foundation. His great merit would naturally 
awaken esteem; and his story render him interest- 
ing to a young and romantic mind; but Aphra was 
also the friend of his wife, whom he tenderly loved, and 
her conduct was watched by anxious and respectable re- 

She appears to have returned to England an orphan, 
and married Mr. Behn, an eminent merchant in London, 
of Dutch extraction ; but he died soon after. The ac- 
count she gave of Surinam so highly pleased Charles II. 
and perhaps the foreign connexions she had formed, in 
consequence of her marriage, that he thought her a pro- 
per person to entrust with the management of some af- 
fairs during the Dutch war, which was the occasion of 
fier going over to Antwerp. By the means of Vander 
Albert, who had been in love with her in England, and 
visited her, on herarrival, in 1666, she became acquainted 
with the design of their admiral de Witt, of sailing up 
the river Thames, in order to burn the shipping, She 
transmitted this intelligence to her court; but, though 
well-founded, it was treated with ridicule, w r hich so dis- 
gusted Mrs. Behn, that she gave up all concern in poli- 
tical transactions during her stay at Antwerp, and en- 
tered into ail the amusements and gallantries of that city. 
On her return to London, she was near being lost, with 
die rest of the crew ; but, by the assistance of boats from 
shore, though the ship was wrecked, all the lives were 
saved . The rest of her life was dedicated to poetry and plea- 
sure. Her conduct, though it has been said not to have 
been vicious in reality, and her writings, were very repre- 
hensible, though the latter abounded in wit and the lan- 
guage of the passions. She published three volumes of mis- 
cellaneous poems, separately, in 1684,- 1685, and 168&- 



They consisted of pieces by the earl of Rochester, Sir 
George Etherege, Mr. Henry Crisp, and others, with some 
pieces of her own. She wrote, also, seventeen plays, seme 
histories, and novels, extant in 12mo. 1735. She translated 
Fontenelle's History of Oracles, znd his Plurality of Worlds, 
to which last she prefixed an Essay on Translation and 
translated Prose. The Paraphrase of (Enone^s Epistle to 
Paris, in the English Translation of Ovid's Epistles, is 
by Mrs. Behn. Dryden sayboi'it, that " she understood 
not Latin, but shamed those that did." She wrote 
also the celebrated Letters between a Nobleman and his 
Sister, printed in 1634. She was a fine woman, a bru- 
nette, of a quick and pleasing countenance. Had not 
Mrs. Behn been so strongly tinctured with the prevalent 
dissipation and loose morality of the age, her talents 
would have ranked her higher in the list of female 

New Biographical Dictionary, &c. 

BELLAMY, (GEORGE ANNE) an Actress of the last 
Century, natural Daughter of Lord Tyrawley. 

POSSESSED of great personal beauty and conversational 
powers, Mi's. Bellamy was much courted by the greatest 
wits of her day ; but imprudent attachments and connec- 
tions deprive her of a right to that admiration which her 
talents otherwise would claim. . She wrote an apology 
for her life, in five duodecimo volumes. 

BELLOT, (MADAME) a French Lady, Author of many. 
ingenious Performances. 

THE principal arc, Observations sur la Noblesse et le 
tiers Etat ; les Reflexions (Tun Provincial sur le Dis- 
coursde M. Rousseau ; Melanges de Literature Anglois" 



This consists of translations from the best English 
authors, in which she has shown no less discernment 
than taste in the subjects she has chosen, and the man- 
ner in which they are executed ; Histoire de Rasselas ; 
Ophelie; Histoire de la Maison de Tudor, c. 



Empress of the West. Daughter of Adelgise II. Prince 
ofBenevento, Wife of Guy, duke of Camerino , crowned 
Emperor 891. 

ON the day even on which he received the purple, 
Guy, by a diploma, confirmed to Ageltrude the posses- 
sion of. her hereditary domains, and whatever his 
fondness had added to them. The next year he r as- 
sociated his son Lambert, though very young, in the 
empire. He died in 894; but though he left a power- 
ful enemy in Berenger, the duke of Friuli, with whom 
he himself had been at war, yet this event, by the ta- 
lents of Ageltrude, was of no disservice to her son. She 
tried to engage the pope's interest on the side of Lambert; 
but was not deceived by his false pretences of regard, 
and guided by her counsels, Lambert put himself at the 
head of his troops, and recovered what Arnold, the king 
of Germany, invited by Berenger, had conquered from 
him. This prince, at the instances of the pope, passed 
into Italy, in the spring of 896, and marched to Rome. 
But when he arrived near it, he found the empress, 
resolute to maintain the rights of her son, had foreseen 
Ins intention, and stationed herself with a large body 
of troops in that city. The temporising pope, whose 
'duplicity she was well assured of, had been put in prison 
by a faction, which she joined ; and Arnold, foresee- 
ing the difficulties of a siege, was almost tempted 
to retire, but a fortunate change in his circumstances 



put him in possession of the city, when he released the 
pope from prison, who, in return, crowned him empe- 
ror ; and took vengeance on his enemies : but Ageltrude 
had escaped, and was gone to join her son at Spoleto, 
whither Arnold followed, and laid siege also to that place ; 
but a paralytic stroke seizing him at the time, he thought 
no more of any thing but how to make his escape from 
Italy, where his cruelties had made him hated. Agel- 
trude and Lambert made the best use of his absence. In 
a few days, they recovered a great part of their posses- 
sions, and their authority was fully re-established at 

The principality of Benevento had been successively 
governed by the brothers of Ageitrude; but, in 891, the 
Greeks macle themselves masters of it. Guy XIV. a de- 
scendant of this family, and governor-general of Spoleto, 
relieved them from this yoke, but imposed upon them 
one as heavy of his own. The people murmured, and 
the empress took this opportunity to re-establish one of 
her brothers, whom they had chased from the throne 
more than twelve years before. 

The emperor Lambert died of a fall from his horse in 
<X.8 ; and his death left Bereiiger sole king of Italy . Cir- 
cumstances obliged Ageltrude to treat with this prince; 
but it was like a wise able princess. She engaged him 
to secure to her two rich monasteries, and all her other 
possessions. She became duchess of Spoleto by the 
death of Lambert; and Berenger, who could, not deny his 
esteem to a woman who had nobly performed the du- 
ties of a mother, by his own hand, at the bottom of their 
treaty, promised to be her friend, in the best sense of the 
word himself to respect, and make others respect her 
domains; which, by the liberality of her husband and 
son, and her hereditary rights, were very considerable. 




BENOIT, (MADAME) 601% at Lyons, 1724, 

A LADY, who is indebted to nature merely for her 
talents; as she never applied herself much to study, or 
was conversant with men of letters. Her first pro- 
duction was A Collection of Letters to an intimate 
Friend. This work, which has been called a sort 
of journal of' Lyons, drew her into some unplea- 
sant circumstances, and she left that city for Paris, 
where her husband, who was an excellent draughts- 
man, had procured the situation of designer at 
the manufacture of the Gobelins Tapestry. She after- 
wards wrote many works ; one entitled Mes Principes,- 
and a Journal Litteraire, are said to he her best. The 
others are romances ; Elizabeth ; Lettres du Colonel 
Talbert, a feeble imitation of Clarissa Harlowe Agatha 
and Isidore ; Celiane, ou les Amans seduits par lew 
Virtu. She also wrote some comedies ; la Triomphe de 
la Probite ; la Supercherie Reciproaue ; and /' Officieux, 
which is not certainly known to be hers. 

Letters on the French Nation. 

donna Batiida) a Poetess of ' Ferrara. Died 1/11. 

A LADY of much erudition and knowledge of differ- 
ent languages ; translated from the French into Ita- 
lian many good works of different kinds. Her poetical 
pieces are published in the collections of the Arcadians, 
a literary society, of which she was a member. 

F. C, 



NA CAMILLA) lived at Rome in 1714, 

WAS esteemed for her great qualities, her learning, 
and agreeable manner of writing. She had studied her 
language with care, and wrote equally well in verse and 

Writer of the eighteenth Century, 

AUTHOR of many useful works, but more particularly, 
of an eloquent discourse, which won the prize at the 
academy of Nancy,, her native place, on the question, 
" Whether it would be mo.^t useful, in this age, to write 
a work purely on literature or morality ?" Mademoiselle 
Bermann, then only eighteen years of age, decided for 
the latter, with much good sense and solid reasoning, 
conveyed in eloquent language. .She received the most 
distinguished marks of approbation ; and her portrait is 
still to be seen in the great hail of that society. 

F. c. & c . 

BERNARD, (CATHERINE) born of Protestant Pa- 
rents, in 1662, died at Paris, 17.12, 

SEEMS to have inherited her wit and elegant taste ; 
for she was nearly related to those great ^ models of 
French poetry Corneille arid Fontenelle, with whom she 
constantly corresponded. It has been supposed, that, 
in her dramatic writings, she received assistance from 
the latter : however that may be, his friendship was an 
honour, and her fine abilities were conspicuous in many 
things in which she must have depended on herself. 



She composed two tragedies, Leodamie, printed in 

1690, which had but indifferent success ; and Brutus, 
in 1692, which was received with great applause. By 
the advice of her friend, Madame Pontechartrain, from 
whom she received a pension, she renounced the thea- 
tre : Lewis XIV. also granted her a pension of 600 livres 
(about 25 pounds) ; but, not being well paid , she explained 
that matter to the king in some very elegant verses. She 
many times obtained the poetical prize at the French 
academy.' Her pieces are printed in their collections for 

1691, 1695, and 1697. She was also three times' 
crowned with flowers at Toulouse, and received into 
the academy of the Ricovrati, at Padua. She wrote 
many pretty novels. Voltaire did not disdain to bor- 
row a thought from her play of Brutus. Towards the 
end of her life she suppressed many poetical pieces 
written in her youth, which she thought not likely to 
be useful; and though offered a considerable sum,. 
would not consent to their publication. 

Mrs Thicknegse's Memoirs of French Ladies. 


BERNERS, (DAME JULYAN) an English Writer 
about the Middle of the Ibth Century, Daughter of 
Sir James Berners, of Roding, in Essex, and Sister to 
Sir Richard^ first Lord Berners, was Prioress of the 
Convent of Sopewell, in Hertfordshire, near St. Al- 
lans, where she presided over twelve Nuns of the Bene- 
dictine Order. 

BEING of a noble house, she was allowed the title of 
Dame, and is celebrated by Hall, Holinshed, and many 
others, for her uncommon learning, spirit, and majestic 
beauty. She delighted in masculine exercises, and was 
so well skilled in them, that she wrote a book under 
the title of Julyan Btirnes her Gentleman's Academy of 
Hawking, Hunting, Fishing, and Armor ie. The coats 
of arms to the latter treatise were in their proper co- 
lours ; 


lours ; that on Hunting was a poem of 606 lines ; the 
rest were in prose. 

She is said to be the second English female writer, 
and the first who appeared in print. So popular was 
her work that it passed through two impressions in the 
space of five years, and this at the most early period of 
printing, when books were neither common nor of ra- 
pid sale ; but the subjects were adapted to the taste and 
amusements of the age. 

The boke of St. Albans, which was the name her 
work obtained, from being printed there, was first pub- 
lished in a small folio, in 1495, or, as others say, in 
1481 ; and again, in 1486 ; there was another edition of 
it in the latter end of queen Elizabeth's reign, 1595. 
It is now extremely scarce. Dr. John Moore, bishop 
of Norwich, had it in his collection, and there is an- 
other at Cambridge. 

Specimens of the Poetry. 


Who thatbuildeth his house all of palowes, 
And pricketh a blind horse over the fallowes, 
And suiirith his wife to seek many halowys, 
God send him the bliss of everlasting galowis. 

She was living in 1460 ; but there is no account of the 
time of her death. 

Dallaway's Inquiries j Female Worthies j New Annual Register, &c. 

BERTANA, (LUCIA) a Lady of Modena, or, as some 
say, of Bologna, whose Poems are printed in Rime de 
cinquante Poetesse, or Poems of 50 Ladies, 

Is known by the part she took in a famous literary 
dispute, occasioned by the censure which a learned, 
but severe critic, Castelvetro, passed upon an ode of 
Annibal Caro, which called forth defences from the ad- 
mirers of the latter, and created, much public animosity, 



disgraceful to both parties. Esteeming equally these two 
great men, Lucia interfered to appease their quarrel, 
and wrote to the poet to engage him to withdraw some 
malicious writings of his friends ; but he pretended to 
be too deeply offended to put an end to the dispute ; 
and, collecting them together, printed them again, 
with the letters of the fair mediator, and his answers. 

F. C. 

BERTANI, (BARBE) of Reggio, in Lombards, fa* 
mousforher Italian Poems ; flourished about 1588. 

BERTHA, Daughter ofCharibert, King of France, and 
Wife of Ethelbert, King of Kent, during the Heptarchy 
in England^ 

ONE of the wisest and most powerful of, the Saxon 
princes, but a pagan. It was expressly stipulated on 
the marriage, that Bertha, who was a Christian, should 
profess her own religion unmolested. Listening to the 
doctrines. of her faith, Ethelbert became a convert to it 
in 597. 

BERTHA, (with the large foot) Daughter of the 
Count of Laon, Wife of Pepin the Short, King of 
France, and Mother of Charlemagne. Died 783. 

THIS princess contributed much to put the crown 
upon the head of her husband. She held a court of 
ladies, in imitation of that of the peers or lords of the 


F. c. 



BESTIA, (APPIA) a rich Lady of Capua, 

WHO rendered herself illustrious during the wars of 
Hannibal and the Romans, hy exercising, indifferently 
towards each, hospitality to the wounded, and liberality 
towards the prisoners of war. 

BIBLIS, a Christian Martyr at Lyons, during the Perse* 
cution of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, 

AT first had the weakness to apostatise, from fear; 
but still a Christian in her heart, she abhorred herself 
for the crime, and could not conceal the horror and in- 
dignation she felt at the rites of paganism. She was 
again arrested and put to the torture. Believing her to 
be of intelligence with the Christians, they thought to 
make her own the crimes they were accused of; 
amongst others, that of eating children. <4 HOW T can 
that be," cried Biblis, " when they are forbidden to shed 
blood!" Resolute to expiate her former fault; she 
continued to justify them, and suffered martyrdom. 

F. c. 

BIERON, (MADEMOISELLE) a learned Lady of 
Paris, in the eighteenth Century. 

FROM early youth, she gave her time to the arts, 
and, indefatigable in the pursuit, studied with suc- 
cess, music, painting, history, and geography. Sa- 
tisfied with the advances she had made in these sci- 
ences, she sought some new object of research ; and her 
friend, Magdalen Basse porte, advised her to apply to the 
study of anatomy, to which Mademoiselle Bieroii conse- 
crated the rest of her life, without any help but her na- 
tural disposition to learn, and the assiduous reading of 



the most learned anatomical books ; she surmounted the 
repugnances of her sex, and the difficulties of pene- 
trating into hospitals and halls of surgery, at the hours 
when she would be secure from encountering any stu- 
dents there ; and applied herself, with unremitting 
assiduity, to this difficult science, only suspending her 
researches, to make at home ingenious models of the 
discoveries with which she had enriched it. After more 
than thirty years of this laborious study, and a multi- 
tude of particular experiments made at her house and 
at her expence, she received the applauses of all the 
learned in that branch of knowledge, on the chefs 
d'ceuvres that her hand had produced. But unpatron- 
ized, even at the age of 56, and confined by a moderate 
patrimony, which, by great economy, she found 
means to share with the poor ; women, to whom the 
care of the sick is principally consigned, and for which 
their delicacy and address so peculiarly qualify them, 
would have 'found a good school at the house of this 
able instructor. 

F. c. 

BINS, (ANNE DE) a Native o Anvers in the I6th Cen* 
tury. A Woman of Learning ', but a violent Bigot, 

REFUSED to be married, that she might devote her- 
self entirely to the belles lettres. She composed poems 
in the Flemish language against heretics ; and her ad- 
mirers have called her a second Sappho. 

F. C. 



BLANCHE, of Castile, Daughter of Alphonso IX. 
called the Magnificent, King of Castile, and Eleanor 
of England, Wife of Lewis Vltt. and Mother of 
Lewis IX. King of France, called Saint Lewis. Died 
1953 ; aged 68. 

BLANCHE was the second of eleven children, and 
educated by her mother, a wise and virtuous princess, 
with great care. When about fifteen or sixteen years 
of age, she was chosen to be the guarantee of a peace 
between two kingdoms, in becoming the wife of prince 
Lewis, son of Philip Augustus, king of Franco. 

In the. continual wars which happened between France 
and England in those times, much depended on the 
personal qualities of the monarch ; and a weak prince 
was sure to lose those insecure possessions, which it 
had usually cost the wisest and bravest monarch* 
much time, blood, and treasure to secure or obtain. 
Perpetually revertirig from one to the other, each felt 
Jittle scruple in breaking treaties, when they could 
thereby recover, as it were, trieir own. 

Philip Augustus had recovered, in tins manner, 
by a breach of faith, Normandy, Touraine, Anjou and 
Maine ; Guyenne alone remained in the power of his 
rival John, who, fearing to lose all, hastened to pro- 
pose an accommodation, of which the- chief article 
was the marriage of his niece, Blanche of Castile, 
to the son of Philip. Eleanor of Aquitain, mother 
of John and grandmother of Blanche, went herself to 
Spain to demand the young princess ; and the nuptials 
were celebrated in 1200. In 1216, Lewis was invited fa 
England by the discontented barons, who offered him the 
crown of that kingdom, in right of his wife. Soon -after- 
wards the death of her brother, the only son of Alphonso 
IX. gave Blanche an undoubted claim' to the kingdom 
of Castile ; but her younger sister, Berengaria, already 
regent of the kingdom, and queen of Leon, assumed 

G the 


the sovereignty, which Lewis, who thought himself se- 
cure of the crown of England, neglected to secure. 
When the death of John raised a competitor less ob- 
noxious to the people, and obliged him to return, it 
was too late to assert her right to u throne already filled 
and recognised by the Spaniards. 

During all the reign of Philip, Lewis and Blanche were 
much at court, where the beauty and fine qualities of 
the latter made her equally loved and admired. In 1223, 
they mounted the throne. She was a tender friend and 
counsellor to her husband, and the dispenser of his re- 
wards and pardons. Pope Honorius III. the next year, 
engaged the zealous monarch to begin anew the war 
against the Albigenses, which his father had prosecuted 
with so much success ; and while engaged in it, he 
died after a reign of three years, in 1226, after 
appointing Blanche regent of the kingdom and guar- 
dian to her son. Some would not believe that he died 
a natural death : they remarked, that Thibaud, count 
of Champagne, who' had followed him to the crusade 
against the Albigenses, had quitted him without taking 
leave, after the forty days fixed by the feudal laws for 
the service of a vassal. They were obliged only to re- 
main so long ; but, in .general, honour and chivalry, 
especially when religious motives were superadded , re- 
tained them near their chief, till J;he object for w*hich 
he had called them together was'accomplished . Thi- 
baud who loved the queen, soothed his passions by 
verses, and all the romantic folly of the times. He 
could not bear this long absence from her sight, and 
asked leave of absence, which, not being able to ob- 
tain, he went without it. 

The king, whether he knew , or only suspected the 
motJVe for this disobedience, or that the action alone 
sufficed to irritate him, drbpped some menaces which 
determined the count to rid himself of a rival, and fore- 
stall the rage of a superior. Such is nearly the founda- 
tion on which M. Paris rests the conjecture that Lewis 
3 wai 


was poisoned by Thibaud. No suspicion of knowledge 
or connivance was ever cast on Blanche. They had 
nine sons and two daughters ; five only of the former 
were living at the death of their father, and all in their 
infancy. Blanche justified the choice of her husband ; 
she did all that was right and proper in her new cha- 

From the absence, or flight of the nobility, many of 
them refusing, upon various pretences,, to attend her 
son's coronation, she found herself in a species of soli- 
tude ; but, putting her trust in Heaven, she exerted her 
utmost powers, in despite of discouragement. 

" It was a woman, and a foreign woman," says M. 
Gaillard, " who was seen, for the first time, under the 
third race of our monarchs, to dare possess herself of the 
regency ; but this woman was the grand-daughter of 
Henry the second and Eleanor of Aquitain, it was 
Blanche of Castile." This extraordinary woman, 
who, to unrivalled beauty, to wit, eloquence, and ad- 
dress, joined the undaunted spirit of a hero, and the 
foresight and prudence of the most enlightened politi- 
cian, soon gave a form to the government, and confided 
the education of her son to the constable de Mont- 
morenci, the greatest statesman and warrior in France. 
All those she placed about the prince, and her other 
children, were remarkable for their knowledge and 

Blanche had given much of her confidence to one, 
who, though wise, was, like herself, a foreigner, the car- 
dinal Ho main Bonaventura, legate in France, whom she 
might almost be said to associate in the government. 
The uncivilized nobility, believing themselves degraded 
by the dominion of a woman and a priest, believed a 
pretence was now given them to reassume their power 
and their tyranny, which Lewis the Fat, and Philip Au- 
gustus, had humbled. -They assembled together, took 
up arms, and the princes of the blood, discontented at 
being excluded from the regency, joined with them. 


It was a common opinion amongst the vulgar, that they 
owed no duty to the king till he was crowned ; and, 
knowing the influence of these prejudices on the minds 
of the people, Blanche was anxious to expedite the cere- 
mony. She summoned all the nobility of the kingdom 
to Rheims : she was informed of the bad intentions of 
many, particularly of the duke of Brittany ; but this did 
not delay her design ; she went to Rheims well guarded. 
The young king was crowned in that city : and though 
it was now December, the rigour of the season did not 
deter the regent from taking her son into Brittany, to 
make his first essay in war against the rebels. Among 
the rest was Thibaud, C. of Champagne. The air of 
disgrace thrown upon him by his quarrel with the 
late king, made them reckon much upon him. Their 
confidence was imprudent, and it was betrayed. It is 
said, this politic queen made the passions of the youn^ 
count, Avhom, herself forty years of age, she disdained, 
serve her designs, and ordered him to enter into the 
league, for the purpose of revealing its secrets to her. 
However this may be, the diligence of Blanche discon- 
certed all the movements of this cabal. She came upon 
them in Brittany, when they were unprepared, dispersed, 
and engaged with them separately; adding to every 
other advantage, that of sowing disunion amongst 

After composing those troubles, Blanche, by offering 
pardon to the Albigenses, on condition of their renounc- 
ing their opinions, persuaded their count to abjure them 
in a public and humiliating manner. But the quiet of 
the kingdom was disturbed by the intrigues of the 
malecontent princes. They wanted to get possession of 
the person of the king, but the ever-awakened vigilance 
of Blanche defeated all their measures ; she raised three 
armies at one time ; one made head against the Eng- 
lish, who were come over to Normandy to take advan- 
tage of the troubles ; one in Touraine, against the allies 
of the duke of Brittany; and theother laid siege to Belesme, 
a place then very strong in Perche. The queen was with 



this part. She visited the camp, and saw that all were 
taken care of. Once, when it was very cold, she had 
large fires lighted during the night, near the men at 
arms and the horses. Watchful and ennterprising as 
she was, aided by the constable de Mon'tmorenci, 
easy to pardon, on submission, and always fortunate, 
Blanche found perpetual occasion for new eilbrts ; and 
the last years ot her regency were employed in securing 
that peace she had so laboured to obtain, in rendering 
more easy the administration of justice, in redoubling 
her charities to the poor, and founding many rich mo- 

In 1232, she made a truce with England, and the next 
year delivered into the hands of her son the sovereign au- 
thority. That son to whom she had often said, " I would 
rather a thousand times consent to lose you, all royal 
as you are, and more dear to me than all the world 
contains, than know you to commit a fault which may 
deprive you of the protection of Heaven." This prince 
paid all the deference to her which such a mother me- 
rited. From regent she became prime minister. 
Blanche loved power, but she loved also the glory of 
her son, and the concord which existed between them 
was the source of the prosperity of her reign. 

In 1248, Lewis, in pursuance of a vow he IKK! made 
in sickness, undertook an expedition to the Holy 
Land, leaving his mother regent during his absence. 
Blanche warmly but ineffectually remonstrated against 
this action ; for, though pious, she was elevated above 
the political errors of her age, and saw the folly of this 
waste of blood and treasure, But, when once it was 
determined, she sought only to render it as little preju- 
dicial to him ana to France as possible. She sent him 
frequent succours of men and money. She watched 
over his interest, and that of her son Alphonso, who 
had married the heiress of Proven9e, and was with him. 
The news from Egypt was at all times distressing. 
Whether Lewis .was beaten or successful, France lost 

G 3 her 


her youth, and new claims were made upon the trea- 
sury. Divided between her maternal fondness and her 
interest in the public welfare, Blanche sought to per- 
form her duties towards each. She strove to maintain 
peace and abundance at home, and yet to supply her 
son with liberality. She suffered by these cares ; and 
when the news arrived that the army was cut to pieces, 
her son, the count d'Artois, massacred by the infidels, 
and St. Lewis himself, with the greater part of the 
prince's and nobility taken prisoners, her noble heart 
failed her, and her health received a considerable shock. 
From this 'time she was always weak and languid, but 
yet redoubled her cares, at least to preserve that state 
she would have rendered prosperous from ruin. She 
sent immense sums into Egypt for the ransom of the 
young monarch, expecting his return, and that of 
her other children, with great anxiety. ' Two of his 
brothers arrived in 1251 ; but her joy was diminished by 
a letter from the king, who had determined not to leave 
Palestine till he had put affairs into a better posture, 
and demanded new succours. She deplored in silence 
the infatuation of har son, but she followed his orders. 

Disorders, of which the crusades were the origin, 
arose in the provinces, and a civil war commenced, in 
which, as usual, the talents of Blanche rendered her 
successful. Her humanity also was called into action 
by the unjust pretensions of some ecclesiastics, particu- 
larly those of Notre Dame, who pretended to have 
powers of life and death over trie peasants of their ju- 
risdiction. She went in person to the prisons belong- 
ing to them, and finding the soldiers hesitated to burst 
Qpen the doors, struck at them first herself, which 
emboldened the rest, who soon burst them, and set free 
the miserable captives. After this, she seized the tem- 
poralities of the canons, till they returned to their duty : 
but wishing to temper the most exact justice with 
mercy, she declared the villages, whose inhabitants had 
been so ill treated, ail ranch ised from those odious rights 



f the chapter; on condition that they paid a reasonable 
sum for their liberty. 

Her health becoming* every day more enfeebled, 
the physicians counselled her to leave Paris for the 
country. She went to Melun, and passed there 
the autumn of the year 1253. A slow and con- 
tinued fever was upon her ; and, feeling that she 
had but little time to live, she returned to 'Paris, re- 
ceived the sacraments- of the church, and, according to 
the custom of the age, entered into a conventual order, 
just before her death, which, undoubtedly,' was hasten- 
ed by the regret she felt, that her toils, for the. welfare 
of France and the prosperity of her dear and excellent 
son, were in vain. 

Her extreme fondness for this son was a source of 
a sort of enmity between her and his wife. Belli 
loved him too well to love each other. One wanted to 
govern him without a competitor, and the other to be 
governed only by him. Lewis managed this point be- 
tween them in a manner that shewed great simplicity 
of manners and refined tenderness. Blanche was jea- 
lous of his confidence in Margaret ; and whenever she 
found him in her apartments, a marked coldness, an in- 
voluntary sharpness, shewed the indignant feeling of her 
soul. They therefore taught a little dog to announce, 
her arrival ; and the moment the animal gave warning, 
the king went out at a back door. Once, when Marga- 
ret was supposed to be dying, the queen dowager found 
Lewis attempting to succour her ; she feared for him the 
melancholy sight of his wife's death, which seemed 
fast approaching, and, taking him by the hand, to lead 
him away, said, in an awful tone/'* you are always 
here."" Ah," cried Margaret, sorrowfully, who 
saw only cruelty to her in this maternal anxietv, 
" will you never let me see my dear lord, either in life 
or death r" and, on the king's leaving the room, 
fainted away : he was soon recalled, and Margaret 
restored to life. It was thus that this amiable monarch 

G 4 was 


was beloved. But though, on the first view, we may 
blame his mother, let it be considered that her political 
abilities were of the first order ; and that had the well- 
intentioned Margaret possessed an equal mind, she 
might more readily have yielded up her influence, to a 
vigilance, a sagacity, an interest like his own. But her 
life seems to have been wound up in the glory and happi- 
ness of her son; and, with religious fidelity, she not 
only taught him to fulfil his duties to his people, but 
seconded herself every view to that end, with indefati- 
gable zeal and activity. 

Rivalite de la France et de FAngleterre, ftc. 

BLAJSTCHEFLEUR, a Provencal Poetess, cotemporary 
of Laura de Sade. 

BLAND, (ELIZABETH) learned in tlie Hebrew Lan- 
guages, and particularly skilful in writing it, 

DAUGHTER and heiress of My. Fisher, of Long-acre, 
born about the time of the -Restoration. She was mar- 
ried, April 1681, to Mr. Nathaniel Bland (then a linen- 
draper in London, afterwards lord of the manor of 
Beeston, in the parish of Leeds, Yorkshire, his paternal 
inheritance, where tiny resided many years) ; their chil- 
dren all died in infancy, excepting two. She was in- 
structed in the Hebrew language by the lord Van Hel- 
mont, which she understood to such a degree of per- 
fection, that she taught it to her son and daughter. 

Among the curiosities of the Royal Society, there is 
preserved a phikictery in Hebrew, of her writing, of which 
Dr. Grew gives the folk) wing account ; " It isonlj r a single 
scroll of parchment, of an inch broad, and fifteen inches 
long ; with four sentences of the law, viz. Exod, viii. from 

7 to 


7 to 11, and from 13 to 19, most curiously written upon 
it in Hebrew. Serarius, from the Rabbins, saith, that 
they were written severally upon so many scrolls ; and 
that the Jews do to this day wear them over their fore- 
heads in that manner ; so that they are of several sorts 
or modes, whereof this is one. This was wrote at the 
request of Mr. Thoresby, and was given by her to that 

She was living in 17 12; but when she died is uncer- 
tain, nor is it now known whether she wrote anything 
for the public. 

Female Worthies. 

BL AN DIN A, a Martyr at Lyons, when the Per- 
secution against the Christians, under Marcus Auto-, 
nhius for AureliusJ was carried on in its greatest Seve- 

THIS woman, who appears to have been a servant, 
was called, among the rest, to the trial ; though of so 
weak and delicate a constitution that they leared she 
would not be uble to sustain the-tortures : but they were 
all deceived. She was tortured in different ways, from 
morning till night, and whilst her body was torn and 
mangled, seemed to derive support by refuting the 
calumnies against the Christians, saying, " I am a 
Christian, and no evil is committed among us." After 
this first trial, she and the ethers were thrust into the 
darkest and most noisome parts of the prison, their feet 
distended in a wooden trunk, and they suffered all the in- ' 
dignities which cruelty and malice could inflict. Many of 
them died ; but the rest,- though afflicted to such a degree 
that tile kindest treatment would scarcely have recovered 
them, destitute as they were of. all help, yet remained 
alive, confirmed in their faith, strengthening and com- 
forting one another. On one of the shows of the amphi- 
theatre, they were led out to be exposed, us food to 

G 5 the 


the wild beasts, according to the common custom of 
these ages. Biandina, suspended to a stake, in the 
form of a cross, employed her time in vehement suppli- 
cation ; and by her meek, but undaunted behaviour in- 
spired her fellow sufferers with fortitude : but none of 
the beasts at that time touching her, she was reserved 
for a future trial, and again thrown into prison. 

On the last day of the spectacles, Biandina was again 
introduced, with Pontius, a youth of fifteen ; they had 
been daily brought In to see the punishment of the rest. 
They were ordered to swear by their idols ; and the 
mob, perceiving that they treated their menaces with 
contempt, was incensed, and aggravated their tortures 
by all possible methods ; but menaces and punishments 
were equally ineffectual. Pontius, being animated by 
his fellow sufferer, who was observed by the heathens 
to strengthen and confirm him, after a magnanimous 
exercise of patience, yielded up the ghost. And now 
Biandina, last of all, as a generous mother, having 
exhorted her children, and -sent them before her 
victorious to the king, reviewing the whole series ef 
their sufferings, hastened to undergo the same herself, 
rejoicing and triumphing in her exit. 

After she had endured stripes, the tearing of the 
boasts, and the iron chair (which was heated to scorch 
their limbs), she was inclosed in a net, and thrown to a 
bull. Even her enemies confessed, that no woman 
among them had ever suffered so much. These 
sufferers of Lyons disclaimed the name of martyrs, 
as too glorious for them, but shewed a constancy, 
mildness, and charity, almost apostolical. They re- 
proached not those who fell away from the faith ; but 
prayed to God for them ; and many, who had shrunk 
bacK from the punishment inflicted on those who bore 
the name of Christ, like Peter, repented of their false- 
hood, and came back, voluntarily declaring they were 

Milner 1 * Christian Church. 



Nun of noble Family ; born 1618 ; died at Chatillon, 

A PIOUS woman, who composed a work called the 
Benedictine Nun, in seven quarto volumes ; also the 
Lives of the Saints, in two vols. besides other similar 

El Theatre Critico. . 

BLESILLA, Daughter of Paula, a celebrated Roman 
Lady, and Sister of Eustochiwn. Died at Rome in 389, 
aged 20, 

A WOMAN of great sensibility, piety, and learning. 
She was very beautiful, and, in, the early part of her life, 
had spent much time and care in adorning her person ; 
but becoming more deeply impressed with religious 
ideas, she gave herself up ttb study and prayer. On 
the death of her husband, though so young, she refused 
to enter into any other engagement, and is much extolled 
by St. Jerom, for her memory and eloquence. She knew 
perfectly the Greek and Latin languages, and had, con- 
quered so well the difficulties of the Hebrew as to speak 
it with facility. 


BOADICEA, a British Queen in the Time of Nero. 

PRASUTAGUS, king of the Iceni (the inhabitants of 
Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridge, and Huntingdonshire) 
in order to secure the friendship and protection of Nero 
to his wife and family, in his will, left the empe- 
ror arid his daughters co-heirs. But no sooner was 
he in the grave, than the emperor's officers seized 

, upon 


upon his effects in their master's name. Boadicea,, 
widow of the deceased king, strongly remonstrated 
against these unjust proceedings ; but her complaints 
were so far from being heard, or her grievances re- 
dressed, that she found Herself ex posed to farther wrongs 
and injuries. For, being a woman of high spirit, she 
resented her ill usage in such terms, as provoked the 
officers to treat her in the most barbarous manner ; they 
caused her to be publicly scourged ; and her daughters' 
innocence fell a sacrifice to their barbarity. 

This story soon spread through the island, and the 
public indignation so generally raised, that all, except- 
ing London, agreed to revolt. The Roman historians 
themselves acknowledge, that the universal violence and 
injustice of the emperor's officers, gave the Britons suf- 
ficient reason to lay aside their private animosities, aid 
the queen to revenge her wrongs, and recover their own 

Boadicea, inspired with implacable hatred against the 
Romans, put herself at their head, and earnestly exhorted 
them to take advantage of the absence of the Roman ge- 
neral, then in the Isle of Man, by putting these foreign 
oppressors all to the sword. They readily embraced the 
proposal, and, on a sudden, flew with the utmost fury 
upon the Romans wherever they found them dispersed in 
their colonies, which were more curiously embellished 
with fine buildings, than strengthened with fortifications, 
massacring all, without regard to age or sex ; and so 
violent was the rage of the exasperated people, that the 
most horrible cruelties were practised on this occasion. 
Not a single Roman that came within their reach es- 
caped their fury, and no less than 70,000 perished. 

Paulinus, in the mean time suddenly returning-, 
marched against the revolted Britons, who had an army 
of 100,000, or, according to Dion Cassius, 230,000 
strong, under the conduct of Boadicea, and/ Venutius 
her general. The fine person of Boadicea, large, fair, 
and dignified, with her undaunted courage, persuaded 


the people that she must have all the qualities of a 
good general ; and, eager for the engagement with 
Paulinus, whose army consisted of no more than 
10,000 men, she expected to satiate her revenge, by the 
utter destruction of so inconsiderable an enemy. 

Mean while, Paulinus was in great trouble; the ninth 
legion had been just defeated by the enemy. Paenius 
Posthumus, at the head of a large detachment of the 
second, refused to join him; so that he had the choice 
but of two expedients, either to march with his little 
army into .the open field against his numerous ene- 
mies, or shut himself up in some town and wait for 
them. At first he chose the latter, and staid in 
London, but soon altered his resolution. And, instead 
of retiring from the Britons, who were now on the march 
towards him, he resolved to meet them. The field of 
battle he pitched upon was a narrow tract of ground, 
facing a large plain, where they encamped, and his 
rear \vas secured by a forest. The Britons traversed 
the plain in large bodies, exulting in their numbers, 
and secure of victory. They had brought their wives 
and children in waggons to be spectators of their actions 
in the battle, and placed them round their entrench- 

Boadicea, in the mean time, was not idle, but mount- 
ing her chariot, with her two daughters, rode up and 
down through the several squadrons of her army, whom 
she addressed to th* following effect : 

" That it was not the first time the Britons had been 
victorious, under the conduct of their queen. That, for 
her part, she aime not there as one descended of royal 
blood, to fight for empire or riches, but as one of 
the common people, to avenge the loss of their liberty, 
the wrongs of herself and children. That the wicked- 
ness of the Romans was come to its height ; andi that 
the gods had already begun to punish them; so that, 
instead of being able to withstand the attack of a victo- 
rious army, the, very shouts of so many thousands 



would put them to flight. That if the Britons would 
but consider the number of their forces, or the motives 
of the war, they would resolve to vanquish or die. 
That it was much better to fall honourably in defence of 
liberty, than be again exposed to the outrages of the 
Romans. Such at least was her resolution ; as for the 
men, they might, if they pleased, live and be slaves.'* 
At the end of her speech she is said to have let loose 
a hare, which she had concealed, as an omen of victory. 

While Boadicea thus laboured to animate her Bri- 
tons to behave with their wonted bravery, Paulinus 
was no less assiduous in preparing his troops for the 
encounter. The Britons expected his sqjdiers to be 
daunted at their number ; but, when they saw them 
advance with short steps, sword in hand, without 
discovering any fear, their hearts began to fail them, 
and they fell into disorder, which continually increased, 
it not being in the power of their commanders to lead 
them back to the charge. The Romans observing their 
consternation, pushed the advantage with great fury, 
and threw their army into a confusion past the possibi- 
lity of recovery. They gave no quarter, and 80,000 of 
the Britons perished. 

Boadicea, indeed, escaped falling into the hands of 
the conquerors ; but, unable to survive the remembrance 
of this terrible defeat, either fell a victim to despair ox 


a French Poetess of the \()th Century, 

MARRIED, when very young, a gentleman of Nor- 
mandy, who held a place of considerable profit under 
government. He made himself known by some very 
elegant translations from the English ; and died before 
her. Madame du Bocage travelled a great deal, and 
published her tours through England, Holland, Italy, 




&c. When she was not only received with every mark 
of distinction and respect by many of the first person- 
ages of Europe, namely, the Pope, Cardinals, the king 
of England, &c. but admitted a member in most of the 
academies. In short, her poetical talents are looked 
upon as equal to the most celebrated Her Paradis Ter- 
restre, printed in 1744, is esteemed an incomparable 
imitation of Milton. She made some alterations, in 
order to conform it more to the taste of her own na- 
tion ; and, as she modestly observes, retrenched some 
parts which seemed too highly coloured to attempt co- 
pying. It must be confessed, Madame du Bocage has 
done as much justice to her subject as the French lan- 
guage will permit of. 

The Latin, English, and Italian languages, she was 
as well skilled in as her own. Milton and Tasso, her 
two favourite poets, she has imitated with equal suc- 
cess, and shewn she perfectly well understood the 
beauties of each author. 

Voltaire wrote very elegantly in her praise. She 
was a handsome, graceful woman, lively and entertain- 
ing. Her other principal works are a translation of 
Pope's Temple of Fame, 1749 ; another of the Funeral 
Oration on Prince Eugene ; Les Amazones, a tragedy; 
la Colombiade , 1756, a poem, and Le Prix alternatif 
entre les Belles Lettres $ les Sciences. This piece was 
crowned at Rouen, 1746. 

Memoirs of French Ladies. Letters on the French Nation. 


Widow of a- Gentleman slain at the battle of Mai- 
plaquet. Died 1730. 

FOLLOWED the example of her parents in abjuring 
the reformed religion, in which she had been educated. 
On the death of hey husband, she sought consolation 



in study. She wrote in prose and verse, with a facility, 
ebgance, and precision, equalled only by the best wri- 
ters. She was well known to the learned, and wrote 
many excellent treatises on history. 

F. c. 

BOLEYN, (ANNE) Queen of England. Born 1507 
beheaded 1536. Daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, 
who had been employed by Henry VI LL in several 
Efiibassies, and ivas allied to all the chief Nobility in 
the Kingdom. 

SHE had been carried over to France by the king's 
sister, when espoused to Lewis XII. of France ; and 
the graces of her mind, no less than the beauties of her 
person, had distinguished her even in that polished 
court. The time at which she returned to England is 
not certainly known ; but it appears to have been after 
the king had entertained doubts concerning the lawful- 
ness of his marriage. She became maid of honour to 
Catherine, and immediately caught the roving eye of 
Henry : but, as her virtue and modesty left him no other 
hope, he resolved to raise her to the throne, which her 
accomplishments, both natural and acquired, seemed 
equally fitted to adorn. ' 

But many-bars were yet in his way, particularly the 
divorce from Catherine, and a revocation of the bull 
which had been granted for his marriage wit|i her, be- 
fore he could marry Anne- The pope, however, em- 
powered Campeggio and Wolsey, his two legates in 
England, to try the validity of the former union ; but 
just when Henry, who was only more violently bent on 
his object for the difficulties in his way, was anxiously 
expecting a sentence in his favour, Campeggio pro- 
rogued the court, and the pope, at the intercession of 
the emperor, nephew to Catherine, revoked the cause to 
Rome. This iiriesse occasioned the fall oi Wolsey, to 



whom both the king and Anne Boleyn imputed the 
failure of their expectations. 

Amidst the anxieties which agitated Henry, he 
was often tempted to break off -all connexion with 
Rome ; and Ann Boleyn used every insinuation, in or- 
der to make him proceed to extremities with the pope, 
both as the readiest and surest means of her exaltation 
to the royal dignity, and of spreading the new doc- 
trines, ia which she had been initiated under the duchess 
of Alenc,on, a warm friend to the reformation. But 
Henry had been educated in a superstitious veneration 
for the holy see, abhorred all alliance with the Luther- 
ans, and dreaded the reproach of heresy. 

While he was thus fluctuating between contrary opi- 
nions, Dr. Thomas Cranmer, a man distinguished for 
his learning and candour, in a casual discourse with 
two of his courtiers, observed, that the best way either 
to quiet the king's conscience or obtain the pope's 
consent, would be to consult all the universities in 
Europe, with regard to that controverted point. Henry 
was delighted with this proposal. Cranmer was im- 
mediately sent for and taken into favour ; the universi- 
ties were consulted, according to his advice; and all of 
them declared tiie king's marriage invalid. 

Wolsey's death, w T ho had been some time disgraced > - 
freed the king from a person whom he considered as an 
obstacle in the way of his inclinations, and supported 
by the opinion of the learned in the step he intended to 
take, Henry resolved to administer ecclesiastical affairs 
without having farther recourse to Rome, aud abide all 
consequences ; he privately celebrated his marriage with 
Anne, 1532, whom he had previously created Marchi- 
oness of Pembroke. 

Cranmer, now become archbishop of Canterbury, an- 
nulled soon after the king's marriage with Catherine, (a 
step which ought to fyave preceded his second nuptials) 
and ratified that of Anne, who was publickly crowned 
queen, on Easter eve, 1533, with all the pomp and dig- 


nity suited to such a ceremony. To complete the satis- 
faction of Henry, on the conclusion of this troublesome 
business, the queen was safely delivered of a daugh- 
ter, who received the name of Elizabeth, and after- 
wards swayed the British sceptre. 

The reformation seemed fast gaining ground in the 
kingdom, though the king was still its declared enemy ; 
when its promoters, Cranmer, Latimer, and others, 
met with a severe mortification, which seemed to 
blast all their hopes, in the untimely fate of their pa- 
troness Anne Boleyn. 

This lady now began to'experience the decay of the 
king's affections., and the capriciousness of his temper. 
That heart which she had withdrawn from another, 
revolted against herself. Henry's passion, which sub- 
sisted in full force, during the six years that the pro* 
secution for the divorce lasted, and seemed only to in- 
crease under difficulties, had scarcely attained posses- 
sion of its object, than he sunk into languor, succeeded 
by disgust. His love was suddenly transferred to a new 
mistress ; but, as he could not marry Jane Seymour 
without getting rid of his once beloved Anne, she be- 
came the bar to his felicity. 

That obstacle, however, was soon removed. The 
heart is not more ingenious in suggesting apologies for 
its deviations, than courtiers for gratifying the inclina- 
tions of their prince. The queen's enemies, immediately 
sensible of the alienation of the king's affections, accom- 
plished her ruin by flattering his new passion. They 
represented that freedom of manner which Anne had 
acquired in France as improper levity : they indirectly 
accused her of a criminal dissoluteness of life, and ex- 
tolled the virtues of Jane Seymour. Henry believed all, 
because he wished to be convinced. The queen was 
committed to the Tower ; impeached ; brought to trial ; 
condemned without evidence, and executed without 
remorse. History affords no reason to call her inno- 
cence in question; and the king, by marrying her 




known rival the day after her execution, made the mo- 
tives of his conduct sufficiently evident, and left the 
world in little doubt of the iniquity of h^r sentence. 

If farther arguments should be thought necessary, in 
support of the innocence of the unfortunate Anne 
Boleyn, her serenity, and even cheerfulness, while under 
confinement and sentence of death, ought to have its 
weight, as it is perhaps unexampled, and could not 
well -be the associate of guilt. " Never prince/' says 
she, in a letter to Henry, " had wife more Ipyal in all 
duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever 
found in Anne Boleyn; with which name and place I 
could willingly have contented myself, if God and your 
grace had been so pleased ; neither did I at any time, 
so forget myself in my exaltation, or received queen- 
ship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as 
I now find ; for the ground of my preferment being no 
surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the least al- 
teration, I knew, was fit and sufficient to draw that 
fancy to some other object.'* 

In another letter, she says; " you have raised me 
from a private gentlewoman to a marchioness ; from a 
marchioness to a queen; and since you can exalt. me 
no higher in this world, you are resolved to send me 
to heaven, that I may become a saint 1" This gaiety 
, continued 

continued to the last. The morning of her execution, 
conversing with the lieutenant of the Tower on what 
she was going to suffer, he endeavoured to comfort her 
by the shortness of its duration. " The executioner, 
indeed," replied she, " I am told, is very expert; 
and I have but a slender neck," grasping it with her 
hand, and smiling. The queen's brothers, and three 
gentlemen of the bed-chamber, also fell victims to the 
king's suspicions, or rather were sacrificed to hallow his 
nuptials with Jane Seymour. 

Female Worthies, Modern Europe, &c. 



BONA, an Italian Peasant in the ValieUnc. Died 

WHILE this young woman was tending Iver sheep, 
she was met by Peter Brunoro,a Parmesan officer of 
note, who remarking her vivacity and noble mien, took 
her with him as his mistress. He delighted to be ac- 
companied by her to the chase, and all manly diver- 
sions. She went with him to serve the great Sfor- 
za, against Alphonso, king of Naples, his first mas- 
ter. He afterwards entered again into the service of 
the latter ; but, being one of those roving spirits by 
which the age of chivalry is characterised, he sought 
again to return to Sforza ; was discovered in the at- 
tempt, and sent to prison. Resolute to deliver him, 
Bona engaged the princes of Italy, the king of France, 
the duke of Burgundy, and the Venetians, to give her 
letters to Alphonso, soliciting his freedom. At such 
instances he was obliged to grant him his liberty, which 
he not only obtained through the means of Bona, but 
the command of the Venetian troops, with 20,000 du- 

Considering the obligations she had conferred upon 
him, Brunoro married her ; and she ever afterwards 
combated with him. She learned the art of war to per- 
fection, which appeared on many occasions, where she 
displayed equal valour and prudence. In fine, the Ve- 
netians confided jointly to this heroic pair the defence 
of Negro pont against the Turks, who were kept quiet 
by the fame of their valour. On the death of Bru- 
noro, Bona, returning to Venice, died on the way, 
leaving two children. 





THIS lady's father and mother, having been guilty of 
some state crime, were imprisoned for life, but indulged 
with possessing one another's company. Mademoi- 
selle Bdnmere, born under, this durance, lived till the 
35th year of her age, and could scarce have been said 
to have seen day-light. The death of her very learned 
and ingenious parents, which happened within a few 
days of each other, gave her liberty, but deprived her of 
the only two friends, or even acquaintances, she had in 
the world, excepting those hard beings who are entrusted 
with the care of prisoners. Thus turned into the world, 
without money, friends or practical knowledge, though . 
excellently instructed in the theory, she determined to 
avail herself of rather a masculine form, and hard fea- 
tures, and appeared in man's apparel, in which she en- 
tered as a private soldier in a regiment of foot, and gave so 
many instances of personal bravery, as well as integrity, 
that she obtained the employment of adjutant and pay- 
master of the corps. 

She wrote memoirs of her own times, which we be- 
lieve were never printed ; but Mrs. Thicknesse, who 
had seen them in MSS. speaks of them in the highest 
stile of encomium. 

BONTEMS, (MADAME) a Parisian; born 1718, 
died 1768 ; 

HAS translated, from the English into French, many 
works, particularly the -Seasons of Thomson, in a very 
superior manner. 




BORE, (CATHERINE VON) a Nun ofNimptochen, 

m Germany, afterwards Wife of Luther ; married 
in 1525, died 1552, aged 53 ; 

WAS the daughter of a gentleman of fortune ; and, 
at the commencement of the reformation, escaped from 
her convent, in 1723, with eight other nuns, convinced, 
by the writings of Luther, of the impropriety of monastic 
vows, and encouraged by Leonard Cope, senator of Tor- 
gaw. This proceeding was highly praised by Luther, who 
undertook their justification. She was then but twenty- 
six ; and, the charms of youth, added to the extraordinary 
step she had taken, which made her many enemies, 
caused her to be censured, though without foundation, 
as having left her convent for a libertine life. Lu- 
ther was hurt at this report, and thought of marrying 
her to Glacius, minister of Ortamunden ; but she did 
not like Glacius, and Luther, though much older, mar- 
ried her himself. 

Luther delighted in the heroism of his wife. He 
would not part with her, he afterwards observed, 
for all the riches of the Venetians. Catherine was 
tenderly attached tocher husband ; she was modest, 
gentle, plain in her attire, and economical in the 
house. She had all the hospitality of the German 
noblesse, without their pride. Luther died 1546. On 
his death, Catherine continued one year at Witten- 
berg, but left that town when it surrendered to the em- 
peror Charles V. a great enemy to her husband. Be- 
fore her departure, she received a present of fifty crowns 
from the king of Denmark ; she received likewise pre- 
sents from the elector of Saxony and the counts of 
Mansfeldt. With these additions to what Luther had 
left her, she had enough to maintain herself and her fa- 
mily, three sons, (some of whose descendants were liv- 
ing in a reputable manner, at the end of the seventeenth 
century ) handsomely. She returned to Wittenberg, wheri 



the town was restored to the elector ; where she lived, 
in a very pious manner, till the plague obliged her to 
leave it again, in 1552. She had a fall from a carriage, 
in her way to Torgau, in consequence of which she died at 
Torgau about a quarter of a year after. She was buried 
there in the great church, with many honours, where 
her tomb and epitaph are still to be seen. 

New Biographical Dictionary, &c. 


Sisters and famous Painters. 

BOURGES, (CLEMENTIA DE) a celebrated Poetess 
of Lyons, in the sixteenth Century, 

WAS not inferior to Louisa Labe in poetical and mu- 
sical talents, but much her superior in birth and virtue. 
They were co temporaries, and esteemed the Sapphos 
of the age ; living in the most perfect friendship, till 
Louisa's conduct made it necessary for dementia to 
-break the connexion ; which she did, though with great 
; pain ^ to herself. 

In the different fetes given to the French kings at 
'Lyons, she played before them. She has been called 
the flower and the pearl of Lyonese Damsels ; a pearl 
truly oriental. She was promised in marriage to a 
young lieutenant of the province, who was killed fight- 
ing against the protestants in Dauphiny, 1561. Cle- 
mentiadied of grief at the end of the next year, in the 
flawer of her age. She was celebrated by the best 
writers of the time. Her poetry is esteemed elegant 
and correct, her measure, smooth and harmonious. ! 

Memoirs of French Ladies, by Mrs. Thicknesse. 



BOURIGNON, (ANTOINETTE) a famous Entlm* 
siast. Bom 1616, died 1680, at Lisle, in Flanders. 

AT her birth, she was so ugly that a consultation was 
held in the family for some days, about stifling her for 
a monster. She grew better, and they spared her. 
At four years of age she not only took notice of the im- 
moral lives of the people of Lisle, but was so disturbed 
thereby, as to desire a removal into some more Christian 
country. She would not join in the sports of other 
children, and soon began to inflict on herself voluntary 

Her father promised her in marriage to a French- 
man. Easter-day, 1630, was appointed for the nup- 
tials; to avoid wnich, she fled, in the habit of a hermit, 
but was stopped' at Blazon, a village of Hainault, on 
suspicion of her sex. The minister of that place 
rescued her from an officer of horse. He observed 
something extraordinary in her, and mentioned her 
to the archbishop of Cambray, who persuaded her 
to give up the idea of living as a hermit, and sent 
her home. But fresh, proposals of matrimony being 
made to her, she ran away a second time ; and going 
to the archbishop, obtained a licence to set -up a 
small society in the country, with some other maidens 
of her taste and temper. The Jesuits, however, oppo- 
sing it, the licence was soon retracted, and Antoinette 
obliged to withdraw into the country of Liege, whence 
she returned to Lisle, and passed many years away in 
a private and recluse way of life, in devotion and great 
simplicity ; so that when her patrimonial estate fell to 
her, she resolved at first to renounce it ; but changing 
her mind, as she was satisfied with a few conveniences, 
spent little, and bestowed no charities, her wealth daily 

Her resolution to remain single, without embracing 
a conventual life, exposed her to the addresses of many 
lovers, either of herself or her fortune. Upon this, 

she , 


she had recourse to the provost, who sent two men t 
guard her house. Soon after the nephew of the minister 
of St. Andrew's, near Lisle, also fell in love with her; and 
as her house was in the neighbourhood, made frequent 
attempts to force an entrance. She threatened to quit 
her-residence, if she was not delivered from this trouble- 
some suitor. The uncle drove 'him from his house. 
Upon which he became desperate, discharged a musket 
through her chamber window, and gave out that she 
was his espoused wife. The preacher at length relieved 
her from the disgrace this charge brought upon her, by 
declaring from the pulpit, that the report was a false- 

In 1658, she was made governess of an hospita. at 
Lisle, having taken the order and habit of St. Austin. 
But here again she fell into fresh trouble. A strange 
idea got abroad, that the hospital was infected with 
sorcery, insomuch that all the young girls in it had an 
engagement with the devil. Upon which the gover- 
ness was taken up, .and examined by the magistrate 
of Lisle; nothing could be proved against her.- But* 
to prevent farther prosecutions, she retired to Ghent ^ 
in lo(J2. Here she supposed her spiritual blessing 
were increased. Many learned and pious persons toolc. 
her part, particularly De Cort, the superior of ths 
Molines, a theologist, who had been secretary to Cor- 
nelius Jansen. - He engaged her to write her religious 
sentiments, and she composed 3 vols. intituled La Lu~ 
iniere du Monde, which has been thought her best work ; 
though she wrote" many others on the same subject., 
These productions occasioned much dispute between 
the Jesuits and those who protected her. They ran at last 
so high, that she was equally persecuted by both par- 
ties. De Cort dying in 16GO % left her his heir ; but tins 
inheritance brought her into new troubles. A multi- 
tude of law-suits were commenced to prevent her enjoy- 
ing it ; nor were her doctrines and religious principles 

li spared 


spared on the occasion. She left Holland in 1671, to 
go into Noor Strand t. 

In her way thither she stopped at several places, 
where she dismissed some disciples, who, she found r 
followed her for interest; and wrote so much, that she 
thought it convenient to set up a press, where she 
printed her hooks in French, Dutch, and German. 
One pfece, among others, was intituled, the Testimony 
of Truth, in which she handles the ecclesiastics very 
severely. Two Lutheran ministers wrote some hooks, 
wherein they declared, that people had been behead- 
ed and burnt for opinions not much less supporta- 
ble than hers. The Labbadists also wrote against her, 
and her press was prohibited. Upon this she retired to 
Hensburgh in 10*73, in order to get out of the storm, 
but was discovered and treated so ill by the people, 
who supposed her a sorceress, that she was glad to get 
away. They persecuted her from city to city ;'and, in 
1070', she went to Hamburgh, as a place of more secu- 
rity; but no sooner was her arrival known than they 
endeavoured to seize her. She concealed herself for 
some days, and then went to Oestfrise, where she ob- 
tained protection from the baron Latzbourg, and wals 
made governess of an hospital. 

Our devotee, when she accepted this charge, de- 
clared that she consented to contribute her industry 
both to the building and distribution of the goods, and 
the jnspectiou of the poor; but without engaging any 
part of her estate ; for which she alledged two reasons ; 
one, that her goods had been already dedicated to God for 
the use of those, who sincerely sought to be true chris- 
tians; the other, that men and all human things are 
very inconstant. It was on this account that she found 
persecutors also in Oestfrise, which obliged her to go to 
Holland in 1683, where she died at Francker the same 

She would never suffer her picture to be taken. Her 



constitution was so good, that, notwithstanding all her 
fatigues, she seemed to be but forty years of age when 
she was above 60, and never used spectacles, though 
continually reading or writing. Her principles were 
nearly the same with those of the quietists ; exclud- 
ing all external worship, and requiring a cessation 
of reason and understanding, that God might spread 
his divine light over the mind. 

She had more disciples in Scotland than in any other 
country ; not only laymen, but some of their teachers 
embraced her doctrines ; and her principal book was 
published there, in En glish, entitled, the Light of the 
World, in lt>9(> : her Traitcs de la solidc Virtue, et Avis 
Sahttaire, are said, by Mrs. Thicknesse, to be written 
in such a strain of Christian piety, that they must obtain 
the approbation of all good men. She composed 18 
vols. in octavo. 

f. C. ; Female Worthies, &c. 


AN excellent designer and engraver, whose works rank 
with those of the first artists. 

BOVEY, (CATHERINE) Daughter of John Riches, 
of London, Merchant, 

MARRIED, at the age of fifteen, William Bovey, 
Esq. of Flaxley, in Gloucestershire. This lady is not 
noted either as a linguist or a writer, yet such were her 
qualities and accomplishments, that she may justly claim 
a place in the first rank of Female Worthies. 

The author of the New Atlantis, gives the following 

description of her. " She is one of those lofty, black, and 

lasting beauties, that strike with reverence, and yet de- 

H 2 light 


light; her mind and conduct, her judgment, her sense, 
her stedtixslness, her wit and conversation, are admirable; 
so much above what is lovely in the sex, that shut but 
your eyes, and allow but for the music of her voice, your 
mind would be charmed, as thinking yourself conversing 
with the most knowing, the most refined of yours. She 
is so real an -economist, that, in taking all the duties of 
life, she does not disdain to stoop to themiost inferior; 
in short, she knows all that a man can know, without 
despising what, as a woman, she ought not to be ignorant 
otj Wisely declining all public assemblies, she is contented 
to possess her soul in tranquillity and freedom at home, 
among the happy few whom she has honoured with the 
name of friends." 

At the age of twenty-two she was left a widow, with- 
out children., and very opulent i and being likewise an 
heiress to her father, these circumstances added to her il- 
lustrious and amiable qualities, gained her crowds of ad- 
mirers ; but she chose to remain in a state of widowhood, 
that she might have no interruption in the disposal of her 
great riches, which she employed to the best purposes. 
And, though she had not been instructed in the dead 
languages, yet, by conversing with some of the most, 
learned men of the age, and by intense application 
to study, she attained a great share of learning; 
knowledge, and judgment. Of this we are assured by 
Sir Richard Steele, in an epistle dedicatory toMrs.Bovey, 
prefixed to the second volume of the Ladies Library. 

It were easy to enlarge on a character whose worth 
was so generally, and well attested ; but her merit will 
appear in a more distinguished light, from her monu- 
mental inscriptions. 

On a beautiful honorary marlle monument, erected in 
Westminster-abbey, is the following : 

" To the memory of Mrs. Catherine Bovey, whose per- 
son and understanding would have become the highest 
rank in female life, and whose vivacity would have re- 
commended her to the best conversation ; but byjudg- 



ment as well as inclination, she chose such a retirement, 
as gave her great opportunities for reading and reflection, 
which she made use of to the wisest purposes of improve- 
ment in knowledge and religion: on other. subjects, she 
ventured far out of the common way of thinking; but, 
in religious matters, she made the Holy Scriptures, in 
which she was well skilled, the rule and guide of her 
faith and actions, as esteeming it more safe to rely on the 
plain word of God, than to run into any freedoms of 
thought upon revealed truths. The great share of time 
allowed to her closet was not perceived in her economy : 
for, she had always a well-ordered, and well-instructed 
family, from the happy influence, as well of her temper 
and conduct, as of her uniform exemplary Christian 
life. It pleased God to bless her with a considerable 
estate, which with a liberal hand, guided by wis- 
dom and piety, she employed to his glory, and the 
good of her neighbours. Her domestic expences were 
managed with a decency and dignity suitable to her for- 
tune, hut with a frugality that made her income abound 
to all proper objects of charity, to the relief o]f the neces- 
sitous, the encouragement of th? industrious, and the in- 
struction of the ignorant. She distributed, not only with 
cheerfulness, but with joy, which, upon some occasions 
of raising and refreshing the spirit of die afflicted, she 
could not refrain from breaking forth into tears, flowing 
from a heart thoroughly affected with compassion and 
benevolence. Thus did many of her good works, while 
she lived, go up as a memorial before God, and some 
she left to follow her. 

She died January S-l, 1720, in the fifty-seventh year 
of her age, at Flaxley, her seat, in Gloucestershire; "and 
was buried there." 

Female Worthies. 



BOW.A!sTNY, the Wife of a Hindoo of Distinction, in 
the Province of .Daira. Burnt herself on the Death of 
her Husband, in 177t>. 

As this practice, the origin of which is lost in anti- 
quity, has been the admiration and regret of so many 
ages, I have thought proper to bring forward one in- 
stance, respecting which ah English gentleman, at that 
time of authority in the district, has kindly furnished me 
with authentic documents. 

The ladies of Hindostan are allowed to marry once 
only; but, on the death of their husbands, they are 
legally entitled to a considerable share of his fortune, 
and may survive him, without incurring any reproach ; 
tlu; contrary pivxtice is rare; yet there are still 
found victims of a false but heroic enthusiasm, who 
still prevent it from failing into disuse. 

Seen by no other man but their husband, and con- 
fined within the walls of their apartments, ambition and 
vanity can only act on things of little import. The ap- 
plause of the multitude, or future fame, would be taint 
inducements to such a sacrifice. The Hindoo women are 
not influenced either by tho.-e considerations, or entirely 
bv aiVection or despair. Their law assures them, that this 
act ensures not only their own and their husband's salva- 
tion, but. that of the children and parents of each. The 
heat of the climate makes it necessary to bury the same 
day on which a death happens. The widow who hiss 
formed this resolution, and repents before she has left 
the. house and been exposed to public view, may be al- 
lowed to draw back; but when this is once done, the se- 
verity ot their manners will not permit it. 

Bpwanny had been married about twelve years, and 
had three "children. She had been tenderly attached 
to her husband, insomuch that she chose to dress his 
food with her own hands, and perform many duties, 
from which her rank exempted her. She attended him 



during his illness with the greatest solicitude, and her 
health and spirits seemed to fluctuate with his. About 
two months before his death, on his disorder increasing, 
he asked her, if he died, whether she would accompany 
him, which she promised, and never swerved from this 
resolution. As his fate grew more certain, her assi- 
duities became more constant, she did not even withdraw 
at the entrance of his brothers, or hide her face from 
them. " For whom," said she, " should I now con- 
ceal myself." On his death, in the morning of the 12th 
of March, 1776, she immediately declared her intention 
to burn with him, went and took out her bridal vestments 
for the occasion, and ordered other necessary prepara- 
tions with the greatest calmntss. Her temper was so 
mild, that she would never resent an injury or an affront, 
but would say, <c it was the will of heaven she should 
suffer it." For the last two months she had never been 
seen to shed a tear. 

As soon as they were acquainted with her determina- 
tion, her family, relations, and friends persuaded her 
to break it; and particularly the mother and brothers 
of the deceased. They brought her children before her, 
and said they would want her care ; but she replied, that 
" her soul was already gone; that she lived but for him 
she had lost; and, that she was bent upon a great bu- 
siness." She attended the body all the day, frequently 
looking at the countenance with smiles, and pressed for 
dispatch, saying, " she would go before night, and view 
the world on leaving it." Messages from the English 
chief were answered in the same way as the others had 
been, and when at length opposition ceased, she ex- 
Jgressed the highest joy. She offered, if the family 
doubted her resolution, or feared she should disgrace 
them by timid behaviour, to give any proof, by suffering 
any torture, as a trial; but, nothing of this kind was 
permitted. She refused to see her children ; but. a speech 
she made to her mother-in-law, bespoke her interest in 
their welfare. " You have excited disputes against my 
H 4 husband 


husband," said she, " and of course against me; but, 
when we are gone, be kind to my children ; they have 
not offended you. You see how this world passes" away, 
act, then, with reference to a future state." The other 
wept ; but did not speak a word in answer. 
. About an hour before sunset, the procession began. 
Bovvanny was carried on a litter upon men's shoulders. 
She sat upright, by the side of her husband's body, 
which was covered with a linen cloth. She 'scattered 
about pieces of the money of that country, and some 
red powder. As they drew nearer the spot, "the curtains 
of the litter were opened ; and though the sun had been 
some time set, the strong illumination presented her 
distinctly to view. She kept one hand upon a tassel, 
which hun<c from the top of the litter, whilst with the 
other she held a fan over the corpse. Her figure w r as 
graceful, and rather larger than that of the generality of 
Hindoo women. She was dressed in the fashion of the 
country, in a red gauze striped and edged with gold, 
and had various gold and silver ornaments. ' The 
whole of her forehead was stained with vermilion, 
as is customary on the day of marriage. By this she 
was rather disfigured ; but the lower parts of her face 
held some marks of beauty: while a placid countenance, 
bordering on melancholy, shewed a mind steady and 
collected. She was talking' in a pleasant tone of voice 
to "the brain ins w ho walked beside her; and frequently 
raised her eyes to look around, without the least sign .of 
confusion or disquiet at the sight of the numbers by 
whom she was surrounded. She once stayed lle litter, 
to bless the English chief and his company, who from 
curiosity and interest had joined the train and prayed 
at intervals, till they arrived at the burning place of 
the family. 

No preparation had been made there for .the cere- 
mony; and when it was begun, a fearful time! 
Bowanny appeared still calm, but sometimes rather 
faint, as if from weakness, when she was supported by 



thebramias and her husband's brothers, and retired into 
a temple, where her mother-in-law constantly resided. 
During this time her husband's body was uncovered. 
He was a handsome man, about thirty, and dressed in 
his bridal habiliments. An hour was employed in bring- 
ing wood and materials for the pile. It was made of 
large beams and moist plantain wood, laid cross- wise, 
over which was spread dry rushes, and a quantity of 
small billets of wood. While it was preparing, Bow- 
anny sent twice to complain of the delay. After it h;id 
been raised about two feet from the ground, the litter, 
with the husband's body, was laid upon it, and soon af- 
terwards she came from the temple, supported by the 
bramins, her husband's brothers, and four female at- 
tendants. She appeared weak, and often reclined her 
head. She repeated prayers dictated by the bramins, 
when near the pile, with her eyes lifted up to heaven. 
When close to it, she sate down upon the ground ; they 
gave her the liquor of a cocoa-nut, and read over some 
ancient writing. She went only once round the pile, 
instead of three times, on account of her extreme weak- 
ness; and, when seated upon it, laid her hands upon die 
heads of those who crouded round, to bless them; but 
what she suid was drowned by the hum of the people, 
and the noise of the music, which accompanied the pro- 
cession. Fora few moments, she appeared in a state of 
suspence, either affected with what she was going to 
suffer, or trying to recollect if more was necessary to be 
done. She then began to give away her ornaments, 
arranged the pillows of the bed, and, without the least 
discomposure, laid down on the left side of her husband, 
throwing one arm around him, and striving to support 
his head with the other. A sheet was then spread over 
them on which rushes and sticks, sprinkled with ghee 
and oil, were laid to the height of two or three feet; 
when her son, a pretty boy about nine years old, lighted 
a taper, and, after walking round the pile, set fire to it, 
just bentath his mother's head, This signal being 



given, it was lighted on every side. At least ten mi- 
nutes must have passed, after she lay down, before this 
took place, during which the pile appeared ' to heave ; 
but the people who were near affirmed, she had not 
spoken one word or moved since she lay down ; and that 
the motion was occasioned by people passing round it. 

At first a thick black smoke arose, from the oil and 
moist boughs, which, perhaps, was humanely contrived 
to suffocate the victim. All remained steady ; and when 
her death was certain, a general shout was raised by her 
attendants, who boasted of her fortitude to one another. 

Some persons, from the superstitious idea that people 
near death have foresight into events, asked her, on the 
way to the burning place, to inform them of something 
they wished to know; to which she meekly asked, 
if they took her for an astrologer ? 

When distributing her ornaments at the last, her hus- 
band's brother observed that a division of them at 
that time might create confusion; and that she had 
better finish what she had to do, when they might be 
taken out of the ashes bv any who would search for 
them. " Very well," said she, ' then I will lie 


Wife of the Count dej Lady of Honour to the Queen 
'Mother ofLcitfsXIV. Ambassador to Poland, Sweden, 
S$c. Born at Paris, 1019, died 1C93, aged 74. 

A FRENCH lady of much wit, beauty, and vivacity; 
which qualities she preserved to an advanced age. A 
collection of her letters, to and from the most illustrious 
characters of the age, some of whom were crowned 
heads, and poems, were printed at Lyden, in 166S. 

F. c. 



BRIDGET, a Swedish Princess, Wife of Ulfon, Prince of 
Nericia. .Died at Rome, 1373. 

AFTER the death of her husband, she went; to Rome, 
where she founded the order of the monks of St. Saviour, 
to which she gave rules, written in thirty-one chapters. 
Towards the end of her life, she went to Palestine, to 
visit places sanctified, in her idea, hy the holy men, who 
had formerly inhabited them. There is a volume of re- 
velations, under her name, in eight books. She was 
canonized in 1415. 

F. C. 

BROADSTREET, (ANNE) a Poetess of New Eng- 
fand, sty led i?t^ the Title to her Book of Poems, printed 
in Old England, 1650, " The Tenth Muse sprung up 
in America." 

THEY consisted chiefly of a description of the four 
elements, the four humours, the four ages, the four sea- 
sons, and the four monarchies. 

Female Worthies, Sec. 

BROHAN, (MADEMOISELLE) an ingenious French 
Writer, a Woman of Beauty and Virtue, afterwards 
married, but ice know not the Xante of her Husband. 

AT the age of eighteen, she had published many in- 
genious works. Some little romances appeared in the 
French Mercury; but hei chef d* venire is U*s A mam Phi- 



BROOKE, (FRANCES) Daughter of a Clergyman of 
the Name of Mvore, Wife of the Rev. John Brooke % 
Rector of Colney , in Norfolk,' of St. Augustin, at Nor- 
wich, and Chaplain to the Garrison of Quebec. Died 
at the House of her on, at Sleaford, 1789, five Days 
after her Husband, of a spasmodic Complaint. 

As remarkable for her gentleness and suavity-, of 
manners as for her literary talents. Her first publica- 
tion was, The' VI 'd Maid, a periodical work, begun Nov. 
1755," and continued every Saturday, till July 1756; 
since collected in one volume 12mo. In the same year 
she published Virginia, a Tragedy, with odes, pastorals, 
end translations. In 1763, appeared the novel of Lady 
Julia Mandeville, which, though its plan was often dis- 
approved^as too melancholy , the execution was universally 
admired. In the same year, she published Letters front, 
Juliet Lady Catesby, to Lady Henrietta Campky, tran- 
slated from the French. She soon after went to. Canada, 
with her husband, and saw those romantic scenes, so ad- 
mirably exhibited in her next work Emily Montague, 
4 vols..!7f><). The next year came out, Memoirs of the 
Marquis de St. Forlaix, a translation from the French. 
On her return to England, she formed an intimacy with 
Mrs. Yates, and was persuaded by this lady to try her 
talents for tragedy again. Her lirst piece had been re- 
fused, by Garrick, and her second met with the same 
fate; which induced her to satirize, him, in a novel, 
called The Excursion, 1777 ; but, afterwards lamented 
the severity she had shown. She translated Ele- 
ments of the History of England, from the Abbe Mil- 
lot, in four vols. 12mo. In January, 1781, the Siege of 
Sinope, a tragedy, was acted at Coven t-garden. It ran 
five nights, but wanted force and originality. Her next 
and most popular theatrical performance was Rosina, 
acted at Coven t-garden, 1782. Few pieces have been 
equally successful, or have maintained their attractions 



so long. Her last work was Marian, brought out in 
1788, but with inferior success to the former. 

New Biographical Dictionary, &c. 

BROOK R, (MISS) Daughter of the Author of Gust a- 
vus Va^a and the Fool of Quality ; inherited her Fa- 
ther's Genius. Died in 1793. 

SHE published a 4to. volume of poems, in 
" Reliques of Irish Poetry, consisting of heroic Poems, 
Odes, Elegies, and Songs, translated into English Verse, 
&c. published with a view to throw some light on the 
antiquities of her country, to vindicate, in part, its his- 
tory, to prove its claim to scientific as well as military 
fame, and to awaken a just and useful curiosity on the 
subject- of its poetical compositions." The pieces which 
she has selected unquestionably possess very great me- 
rit. They are distinguished by numerous instances 
of that sublimity, pathos, and charming simplicity 
which are discoverable in the artless compositions of 
early times. She was peculiarly fitted for this task ; 
as she. possessed very respectable poetical talents, he- 
roic and elevated sentiments, a lively and bold imagina- 
tion, and an elegant and cultivated taste ; to which 
must be added. an enthusiastic zeal for the literary ho- 
nours of her country ; which some may think she has 
carried to an excess, in the encomiums which she 
passes on the Irish language and music; and in her 
claims, for Ireland, to a more early civilization, refine- 
ment, and cultivated genius, than any other nation in 
Europe. A novel, in one volume, ' said to be a post- 
humous work of Miss Brooke, has lately been pub- 

1*11 :'.* 


New Annual Register, Sic. 



BRUNEHAUT, married A. D. 563. Died 613 

DAUGHTER of Athanagildus, king of the Visigoths, 
in Spain, passed for the most accomplished princess of 
the a'ge, and married Sigehert, king of Austrasia, (one of 
the divisions of France) an amiable and valiant prince, 
but constantly engaged in war with the other descendants 
of Clovis, who divided France among them : he was 
assassinated by the agents of Fredegonde, in 575. 
Queen Brunehaut and her children were arrested ; but 
her only son, Childebert, escaped, and regained his 
father's dominions. Meroveus, the son of Chilperic, 
then married Brunehaut, and deeply angered his 
father. He was soon murdered : Brunehaut became 
regent during her son's minority, and was constantly 
engaged in wars ; Fredegoncle frequently attempting to 
assassinate her and her son, but always tailed. Childe- 
bert died, A. D. 596, leaving two children, who suc- 
ceeded him, under the care of Brunehaut. 

These brothers were continually quarrelling and jar- 
ring with each other. Theodebert, the eldest, ex- 
pelled his grandmother from the court; some say, she 
set them at variance, and, with vindictive wrath, 
meditated his destruction : but this is disbelieved. She 
lived afterwards with Thierri, king of Burgundy, her 
second grandson : at length, in G'13, they all sunk be- 
neath the power of Clothaire II. king of Paris. He had 
her grand children and great grand children murdered; 
and, having ordered her to be brought before him, at 
the head of his army, reproached her, in the most in- 
decent manner, with all the crimes tluit had been com- 
mitted by his mother Fredegonde and himself: the 
troops, inflamed by this", called loudly for her death. 
During three days, she was exposed to their derision 
and insult, mounted on a camel, and paraded round 
tUe camp ; on the fourth, she was tied to the tail of a 
horse, that had never been broken, and dashed to pieces 



on the ground ; what remained of her body was thrown 
into the flames. 

Authors are divided upon her character ; some have 
drawn it as most vile ; but the more respectable repre- 
sent her as the perfect model of beauty and the graces, 
as a pattern of decency, wisdom, virtue, and meekness. 
Pope Gregory praises her as a princess ever attentive to 
the discharge of religious duties, a virtuous regent, and 
good mother ; and her reign, notwithstanding all the 
detraction of calumny, has many instances of generosity, 
sense, firmness, and benevolence. There were, in after 
times, so many proofs of her public spirit remaining in 
castles, churches, monasteries, hospitals, and high 
roads, as almost to render it incredible they had been 
performed by the single monarch of a small part of 

Gifford's History of France. 

BUCCA, (DOROTHEA) a learned Lady of Bologna, 
in the fifteenth Century ; Daughter of a great Philo* 
pher and Physician, 

WAS, from her childhood, instructed in literature, 
and profited so well by her studies, that she acquired 
the dignity and insignia of a doctor in the university ; 
and, soon after, in the year 1436', she had a professor- 
ship there, and taught for many years with great repu- 

F C. 

BUCHAN, (ELSPETH) Daughter of an Inn-keeper in 
the North of Scotland. Born 1738 ; died 1791. 

AT the age of twenty-one, was sent to Glasgow to 
get a place, and soon after married Robert Bucnas, a 



workman in a Delft manufactory there. At the time of 
her marriage, Mrs. Buchan was of the episcopal persua- 
sion ; but her husband being a burgher seceder, she soon 
adopted his principles. She had been always a con- 
stant reader of the scriptures, and being of a x^isionary 
turn of mind, took many allegorical expressions in a 
strictly literal sense. In 1779, a great change took 
place in her opinions ; she became the promulgate of 
many singular doctrines, and obtained many respecta- 
ble, even clerical proselytes; among them, Mr. Whyte, 
of Troine : but, in 1790. the populace of that place 
broke all the windows of that gentleman's house, where 
the Buchanites, as they were then termed, were assem- 
bled ; on which Mrs. Buchan and her converts, to the 
number of forty-nine, left the place ; and after some pere- 
grinations, settled at a farm house thirteen miles from 
Dumfries. They paid for every thing they received, 
always kept the bible about them, and c unversed muck 
about religion. Declaring the last day to be at hand ; 
that none of their company should ever die, but soon 
bear the voice of the last trumpet, when all the wicked 
should be struck dead for a thousand years ; but they 
should be caught up to meet our Saviour in the air, and 
return with him to possess the earth for that time ; at 
the which, the grand enemy shall be loosed, and attack 
them; but be repulsed and conquered. 

On adopting this per suasion, they neither married, nor 
considered themselves as bound by any earthly tie, 
or having any separate property. To live a holy life, 
to be careless of the morrow ; and, if they work for 
others, to refuse wages, or any other consideration, 
doing it merely for the purpose of promulgating their 
opinions, were the principles of this harmless sect ; 
which was soon greatly reduced in number. 

New Biog. Diet. 



BURVE, (CATHERINE) a learned Swedish Lady. 
' Died W79 ; aged 77, 

WAS well versed in the sciences, and wrote perfectly 
well 'in Latin. Many of her letters to Vendela Skytte, 
another learned Swedish lady, are in that language. 

F. c. &c. 

BUHINI, (BARBARA). Born 1700. An excellent 

BURLEIGH, (MILDRED, LADY) eldest Daughter 
of Sir Anthony Cook. Born 152(5, died 1589. 

DR. Wotton, in his Reflections on antient and modern 
Learning, assures us, that no age was so productive 
of learned women as the sixteenth 'century. Speaking 
of the flourishing condition learning was in at that time, 
he says, "it was so very modish, that the fair sex 
seemed to 'believe .the Greek and Latin added to their 
charms; and that Plato and Aristotle, untranslated, 
were frequent ornaments of their closets. One would 
think, by the effects, that it was a proper way of 
educating them, smce there are no accounts in history 
of so many great women in any one age, as are to be 
found between fifteen and sixteen hundred." And Eras- 
mus, speaking of those times, says, " The scene of 
human things is changed ; the monks, famed in times 
past for learning, are become ignorant; and women 
love books. It is pretty enough that this sex should 
now betake itself to the ancient examples.*"' 

The reason which Mr. Sfrype gives for this is, the 
great care which Henry VIII. took in the education of 
his daughters. But perhaps it may more probably be 



ascribed to the noble art of printing, which had just 
then awakened the minds of people, and fur- 
nished them with a vast variety of books to improve 
their understanding-. To this may be added the exam- 
ple of Sir Thomas More, whose daughters were cele- 
brated, even in foreign countries, for their great skill in 
the learned languages, the arts, and sciences, before the 
daughters of king Henry VIII. were born. But, how- 
ever this may be, parents in those times, might imagine, 
with a polite and elegant writer, " That, in a country 
where women are admitted to a familiar and constant 
share in every active scene of life, particular care should 
be taken in their education, to cultivate their reason, 
and form their hearts, that they may be equal to the 
part they have to act." 

Among those gentlemen, who so worthily distin- 
guished themselves in the care they took [in the educa- 
tion of their daughters, none deserve greater praise 
than Sir Anthony Cooke, one of the tutors to king Kd- 
ward VI. who bestowed so liberal education on his 
daughters, that they became the wonders of the age, 
and were sought in marriage, as Camdcn and Lloyd 
observe, by some of the greatest men of that time, 
more for their natural and acquired accomplishments 
than their portions. The eldest of these ladies is the 
subject of this narrative. 

Great care and "pains were taken of her education, 
which she fully repaid ; being as eminent for her great 
learning and good sense, in the early part of her life, as 
exemplary for her piety and charity in the latter. 
She was extremely well skilled in the Greek and Latin 
tongues ; but more particularly in the former, having 
Mr. Lawrence, the great Grecian, for her preceptor. 
She took great delight in reading the works of Basil, 
Cyril, Chrysostom, Gregory Nazianzen, and others. 
She translated a piece of St. Chrysostom' s out of Greek 
into English, as the author of the Life of Lord Trea- 
surer Burleigh informs us. And when she presented 



the university library in Cambridge with the great Bible 
in Hebrew and other languages, she sent it with an epis- 
tle in Greek, written with her own. hand. 

On the 21st of December, in the year 15-16, and in 
the ^Oth year of her age, she was married to Sir Wil- 
liam Cecil, afterwards created lord Burleigh, lord high 
treasurer of England, and privy-counsellor to queen Kliza- 
beth, by whom she had many children, all of whom 
died young, excepting two daughters. 

Attorn long and happy marriage of 42 years, she died 
April 4, 1589, in the Ood year or her age. She was a wo- 
man of exemplary virtue, and engaging qualities. Of an 
admirable understand in,u', and (if a judgment may be 
formed by her letters) as good a politician as her hus- 
band *. She v>'as buried in the abbey church of West- 
minster, where a magnificent monument is erected to 
her memory. 

Five days after her decease, lord Burleigh wrote, what 
he calls, A Meditation on the Death of his Lady, f writ- 
ten in sorrow ;' in which he praised her zeal for the main- 
tenance of learning ; by her many benefactions to Cam- 
bridge, Oxford, and Westminster; her widely ex- 
tended benevolence ; and the secresy with which she 
did all these things, so that even he knew them not 

during her life. 

New Annual Register j Female Worthies, 

BURNETT, (ELIZABETH), Bor 1661; died 1708-9, 

Eldest Daughter of Sir Richard Blake, and of Eliza- 
beth, Daughter of Dr. Bat hurst, a Physician in Eon- 
don^ a Gentfan&n of eminent Piety, and one of the 
most considerable Men of his Profession. 

AT eleven years of age she began to have a true 
sense of religion, and read, with great application, 

* See ^{r. Cart's General History of England, rol. iii. p. 670. 



the books that were put into her hand ; but was riot 
quite satisfied, aspiring after more solid and sub- 
lime notions than what she found in them. On this 
account, more than ordinary care was taken to make 
her think meanly of herself, she being bred up in the 
greatest privacy possible. 

At little more than seventeen, she was married to 
Robert Berkley, of Spetchley, in the county of Wor- 
cester, Esq; grandson of Sir Robert Berkley* who was, 
a judge in the time of king Charles I. This match 
was procured chiefly by the means of doctor Fell, lord 
bishop of Oxford, who was that gentleman's guardian, 
and had taken care of his education. That great pre- 
late, so famous for his piety and learning, thought the 
forwarding this match the greatest service he ever 
rendered his pupil. 

"When she came into Mr. Berkley's family, she found 
that gentleman's mother, who had great interest with 
him, a- pious woman, but a zealous Papist. This in- 
duced her to study her own religion more, in order to 
understand the controversies between it and the church 
of Rome. But, considering the particular turn of his mind, 
and the great deference he paid to his mother, she 
found herself obliged to be very tender and careful, that 
he might not be disturbed with unnecessary disputes 
about religion, in which, and in her whole management 
in this respect, she shewed admirable discretion. 

At the same time, she obliged herself to more than 
ordinary strictness in her whole conduct, that she might 
adorn her own profession by a suitable practice ; and, 
living, in the country, where she had much leisure, she 
spent great part of her time in devotion and reading; 
and, when she would divert herself with work, she 
generally had some pefson to read to her. When her 
poor neighbours came to visit her (which, encou- 
raged by her, they often did), that she might instruct 
them without seeming to take too much upon her, she 
would frequently read good books to them. 



Tn this manner she lived for six years, esteemed even 
by those, who, on account of different opinions in reli- 
gion, were likely to be prejudiced against her. 

In king James's time, on the death of bishop Fell, 
who had great influence over Mr. Berkley, and visited 
him once a year, to prevent his being wrought upon by 
his relations, at a time when they had hopes of seeing 
their religion established by law, she prevailed with 
him to go to Holland, and travelled with him over the 
seventeen provinces, where, on account of his relations, 
they met with an unusual kind reception ; letters being 
sent, without their knowledge, to Brussels, Ghent, 
Liege, and other considerable places, recommending 
Mrs. Berkley in a very particular manner, as one who, 
had she been of the catholic church, would have de- 
served the title of saint. 

After this, they were both fixed at the Hague, where 
she was soon known, and acquired the friendship of per- 
sons of the highest rank, till about the time of the re- 
rolution, when they returned into England, and retired 
to Spetchley, his country seat. 

Her knowledge and virtue made her, everyday, more 
acquaintance in that country. She contracted an inti- 
inate friendship with doctor Stillingfleet, bishop of Wor- 
cester, who said, upon several occasions, that he knew 
not a more considerable woman in England. Nor was 
she less esteemed by many other excellent persons, Mr. 
Berkley dying in the year 1693, she applied herself" 
wholly to^deyotion, reading, acts of charity, an.d the 
offices of friendship ; particularly she took upon her the 
care of her late husband's pro testant relations, as if they 
had been her own, providing for them, even at her death, 
and was also very kind and obliging to all the rest of his 

While she continued at Spetchley, she kept an hospi- 
table table, to which the neighbouring clergy were al- 
ways welcome. She paid true respect to those who 
were in low circumstances, heartily esteeming them for 



the sake of their functions and labours. She frequently 
made them presents of the most useful books, and to 
some generously lent money, expecting only to be 
paid when, by the providence of God, they might be 
put into more easy circumstances. 

Mr. Berkley ordering, in his will, a great sum of mo- 
ney to be raised out of his estate, to erect an hospital at 
Worcester for poor people ; she had it much at heart 
to see his plan brought to perfection. Besides the care 
of this, she took upon her several charges in relation to 
his affairs, more than the law required, in the payment 
of debts and legacies ; and continued still one emi- 
nent instance of charity, which is now spread al- 
most all over England; the setting \ip schools for the 
instruction . and education of poor children, which she 
afterwards increased to a much greater number. 

She had early an inclination to employ her pen in se- 
veral sorts of compositions, in which she was encouraged 
by the approbation of her friends : and while she was a 
widow, made the first draught of a Method of De- 
votion, for her own use only ; consisting of such rules 
and directions as she resolved to conduct herself by, and 
which, indeed, had been all along the measure of her 
practice. The original manuscript was lately in the 
library of that celebrated antiquary, Mr. Ralph le 
Thoresby, of Leeds, who, in the catalogue of his MSS. 
gives the following account of it : " Rules for the 
Lord's day ; days of humiliation and fasting, public and 
private ; concerning the Lord's Supper ; Christmas 
meditations; upon death, &c. This is the original; 
writ by the ingenious and pious author, Mrs. Elizabeth 
Burnet. In this are also a soliloquy upon her ladyship's 
return to her closet at Salisbury, April 9, 1703; and, a 
prayer for my lord bishop, her husband, whose accepta- 
ble present it was." 

She continued a widow' near seven years, and then 
married the Rev. Gilbert (Burnet) lord bishop of Salis- 
bury, where she found a family of children, whom she 



treated not with a false indulgence ; but with the care 
and true concern of a real mother, and was loved and 
respected by them as if she had been so in reality ; of 
which the bishop was so sensible, that he, by his will 
then made, left them entirely under her care and autho- 
rity ; and judging rightly, that she brought blessing 
and happiness enough into his family, by bringing her- 
self into it, desired to secure all her own estate and 
income to herself, with a power of making such a will 
as she pleased, to which he bound himself to consent. 
Thus she continued mistress of all that was her own ; 
but allowed to him, for her expenditure, a sum not 
exceeding the rate of a boarding house, that so she 
might have more for charitable purposes ; an allow- 
ance which the bishop accepted of, though he was 
desirous, and often told her so, that nothing should 
be deducted on that account. She was uneasy at using 
even a fifth part of her income for herself; seldom 
going beyond, often within it. The number of children 
taught at her expence, in and about Worcester and Sa- 
lisbury, were above an hundred. 

Notwithstanding the interruptions which a more ge- 
neral acquaintance ave her, she spent as much time as 
she could, in writing upon divine and moral subjects, 
and w r as prevailed upon to consent to printing the first 
edition of the Method of Devotion. This being very much 
approved of by many of her friends, she thought she 
could make if more useful by adding a great deal to it 
out of many other papers she had by her; and accord- 
ingly printed a second edition of it at her own expence, 
which she disposed of amongst those whom she thought 
most likely to be profited by it. 

She had no sldll in the learned languages ; buf 
having made the scriptures her chief study, by 
the help of English commentators, and the clergy, 
with whom she frequently conversed, she attained 
a great degree of knowledge in them. Though her 
mind was naturally inquisitive, her apprehensions quick, 



and her judgment solid, she confined her inquiries 'to a 
few things. Therefore, when she had made somt pro- 
gress, both irr- geometry and philosophy, she laid these 
studies aside, though she had both a genius and a relish 
for them. Her chief care was to govern her passions, to 
subdue her affections, and to obtain an entire resigna- 
tion and conformity to the will of God. She was con- 
stant in reading the scriptures daily. She used to say, 
that as to the practical parts, the reading" them 
with a spirit of humility and simplicity of heart, toge- 
ther with earnest prayer to understand the will of our 
heavenly Father, was the best way to know whether any 
doctrine was of God, or not. 

In her general discourse, she suited herself to the 
company she was in, as far as was consistent with 
the rules of propriety and charity. She was generally 
cheerful, but .set a most strict guard over -her lips, 
without seeming to do so. Her design, indeed, was 
to render a strictness in religion as agreeable as possible, 
and to show that it did not take away that ease and 
freedom which is the life of conversation. 

Nobody despised more the pomps of the world, yet 
she conformed to the apparel and way of life, which 
was suitable to ,her rank, without affecting singularity 
in any thing. 

Her constitution was always very tender ; but in the 
year 1707, it declined so fast, that she was advised to 
go to Spa, for the recovery of her health. By this 
means she retrieved it a little while ; but in -January, 
1707, fell sick of a pleuritic fever, which proved fa- 
tal; but she shewed all along a full resignation of mind 
to the will of God, and a patient enduring of pain. 
After her voice quite failed her, as things were spoken 
in her hearing, she shewed, by the lifting up of her 
hands, and other signs, in what a happy calm she then 
possessed her soul ; how easy and comfortable her pas- 
sage was, and how earnestly she recommended the 
practice of true religion to all about her. She Was bu- 


ried at Spetchley, by the side of her former husband, 
agreeable to a promise she had made him. 

Female Worthies. 

BURY, (ELIZABETH) Daughter of Captain Adams 
Lawrence, of Lynton, in Cambridgeshire. Bom at 
Clare, 1664; died at Bristol, 1750. . 

HAS been characterised as a person of uncommon 
parts, ready thought, quick apprehension, and proper 
expression. She .was always very inquisitive into the 
nature and reason of things, and thought herself obliged 
to any who would give her instruction. 

In common conversation, she had often sharp 
turns, and ready replies, which were softened with such 
an ingenuous air, that they could very seldom be re- 
sented. In writing letters, she had a great felicity 
of expression ; and was thought so close, and perti- 
nent, that her correspondence was greatly valued 
by some of the brightest minds, even in distant coun- 
tries. She studied philology, philosophy, history, an- 
cient and modern, heraldry, the globes, mathematics, 
and music, vocal and instrumental. She learnt French, 
chiefly to converse with French refugees, to whom she 
was an uncommon benefactress; but especially applied 
herself to Hebrew, which, by long application and 
practice, she rendered so familiar and easy, as fre- 
quently to quote the original, when the true meaning 
> of some particular texts of scripture depended upon it. 
She made critical remarks on the idioms and peculiari- 
ties of that language,- which were fo,und amo&g her pa- 
pers after her decease. 

Another study Vv-hich she took much pleasure in was 
anatomy and medicine, being led and prompted to it by 
her own ill health, and a desire of being useful to 
her neighbours. But, however she amused herself with 
these, her constant and favourite study was divinity, 

i especially 


especially the scriptures ; having, from her childhood, 
taken God's testimonies for her counsel. But notwith- 
standing all her knowledge and unusual attainments, in 
so many professions, faculties, kinds of literature, and 
important truths of religion, she always confessed and 
bewailed her own ignorance, say ing that she knew little in 
comparison of what others did, or what she ought to 
have known. 

She was very charitable to the poor, sparing no pains 
nor expence, in her widowhood, to carry on her designs 
for the relief of miserable families exiled for religion ; 
for erecting charity schools ; for the maintenance of mi- 
nisters and candidates, and for a stock of bibles and 
practical books to be distributed as she should see occa- 
sion. She very much approved of every one's devoting 
a certain part of their estates to pious and charitable 
uses ; " for then/' says she, " they will not grudge to 
give out of a bag that is no longer their own." She 
was very exemplary in her devotions, and would often 
say she wondered how people could, by any omission of 
duty, deprive themselves of one of the greatest priti- 
leges allowed us. She rose every morning at four 
o'clock, from the eleventh year of her age ; and at five, 
if sickness or pain did not prevent her, during the latter 
part of her life. 

She carefully endeavoured to improve the day in com- 
pany and conversation with her friends; was always 
well furnished "with matter of useful discourse, and 
could make very happy transitions from worldly to se- 
rious talk ; but* would often complain of the loss of 
much precious time, in giving and receiving visits, and 
say, she could not be satisfied with such a life, wherein 
she could neither do nor receive good, but must keep to 
her closet and her book. 

Her first marriage was to Griffith Lloyd, Esquire, of 
Hommington Grey, in Huntingdonshire, 1667, in the 
23d year of her age. He was a gentleman of good re- 
putation and estate, of great usefulness to his country, 



whilst irvthe commission of the peace; and after wards as 
a reconciler of differences, and common patron of the 
oppressed. They lived happily together about fifteen 

Her second marriage was to Mr. Samuel Bury, a^ dis- 
senting minister, 1697. At the 77th year of herage, after 
a short illness of a few days, she left this world without 
either sigh or groan, and with a pleasant smile on her 
countenance. Dr. Watts wrote an elegy on her death, 
in which he speaks of her in the highest strain of praise. 
She left behind her a large Diary, which Mr. Bury, 
her husband, abridged and published. Amongst her 
miscellaneous papers were the following discourses : 
Meditations on the Divinity of the Holy Scriptures. 
The several Parts of the Creation. T/ic Extent, Efficacy, 
and Mystery of Providence. A Believer's Union with 
Christ. His Communion with his own Heart. His walk- 
ing with God. His regulating his Thoughts, Speech, 
and Actions. The whole Duty and Happiness of Man. 
The grand Treasure of all Scripture Promises. The Un- 
reasonableness of Fretting against God. The Mansion 
of the Soul of Man. The Resurrection of the Body. 
Critical Observations in Anatomy, Medicine, Mathema- 
tics, Mustek, Philosophy, and Rhetorick. 

CALDERINA, (BETTINA) a Lady of Bologna, of 
great Knowledge, particularly in the Law, which was the 
Profession of her Husband. 

WHEN he was prevented by business or ill* health, 
she gave public lectures on that science with great ap- 

F. c. 

CALIPSO, or CALLISSA, a female Painter of Anti- 
i 2 CAL- 


CALLTCRATA, a Grecian Woman, famous for politi- 
cal Knowledge, in which shs instructed others, 

Is celebrated by Anacreon : Plato also speaks of her 
in very high teritis. 

CALVIN, (MISS) Daughter of a House Painter, at 
Penrith, in Cumberland ; an ingenious Man in many 
Things beyond his Profession. 

A LADY whose botanical paintings highly merit the 
attention of the curious : for delicacy of colouring and 
taste in the disposition of the foliage and flo\vers, to- 
gether with the scientific accuracy of the work, her 
iinished pieces vie with any paintings of the kind in 
Europe. After Mr. Pennant visited this great artist, 
he could not forbear noting; " Miss Calvin, of exqui- 
site skill in painting plants and flowers, with equal ele- 
gance and accuracy : a heaven-born genius, obscure 
and unknown.'* 

She at length was patronised by Lady Lonsdale, and 
removed to London, where, soon afterwards, she died 
without reaping much public fame. 

Hutchinson's Cumberland. 

CAMBIS, (MARGARET DE) a French Lady of Lan- 
guedoc, in the sixteenth Century, 

THAN SLAT ED several works from the Italian. 

F. C. 

CAMBRA, called the Beautiful , Daughter of Belinus, 
one of the ancient British Kings, 

WAS an able mathematician 3 and exerted her talents 



and erudition in the service of her country. She is 
said to have invented the manner of building and forti- 
fying citadels. Her understanding was so excellent and 
her knowledge so extensive, that the king and his 
statesmen consulted her on all important affairs. 

F, C. 

CAMBRY, (JANE DE) Native of Tournau. Became 
a Nun of Lyons, in 1625 ; died 1639 ; 

WROTE several religious works ; one was on The 
Ruin of Self, and Erection of divine Love. . 

F. e, 

CAMMA, a Lady ofGatatia, 

WIFE of Sinatus, assassinated by Sinorix, who was 
in love with Gamma, and sought to espouse her. She 
resisted his prayers and entreaties ; but, fearing his 
power, determined to feign a consent,' in order to 
avenge the death of her husband. She was priestess of 
the temple of Diana, where the marriage was to be ce- 
lebrated. It was a. custom for the new-married couple 
to drink out of the same cup. Gamma poisoned the 
beverage ; and, drinking first herself, gave it to the un- 
suspicious Sinorix ; then, delighted \vith the success of 
her plan, she bade him tell his attendants to prepare 
his tomb, and said, she died with joy to revenge her 

F. C, 

CAMUS, (CHARLOTTE DE) a French Lady in the 
Beginning of the last Century, 

MUCH celebrated for her poetical talents ; her pieces 

i 3 are 


are scattered in different collections, but not esteemed 
much at present. 

F. C. 


favourite Attendant, or first Lady of the Bedchamber, 
to the young Tartar - Queen of Mahmoud, the greaj 
Sultan of Ghezna, who conquered Hindostan, and 
nw.ny other Kingdoms of the East, at the End of the 
tenth, and Beginning of the eleventh Century, 
APPEARS by the account of the penetrating states- 
man, Vizir Nezam, to have been the chief, though se- 
cret spring of every ministerial movement. She was 
handsome, and endowed with uncommon parts ; a 
steady friend, and a determined, but not a cruel enemy. 
She protected her favourites in the most dangerous situ- 
ations; and hurled with a sure and inevitable arm, dis- 
appointment and disgrace on the heads of those that 
wished to rise upon their ruin. 

Altun Tash was the first omra of the divan ; when 
the government of Kharezme being vacant, he solicited 
the appointment. As he was esteemed the chief pillar of 
the throne, the court was surprised that he should have 
accepted it : and a friend begging to know what could 
induce him to resign the power he hud over ^o vast an 
empire, to take the charge of a court ? he replied, " By 
the God who created heaven and earth, the eecret 
which I shall now disclose to you I have not revealed 
to any living soul. It was the enmity of Jemila Kan- 
dahaii.aiid that only, which made me give up the power 
I had over this great empire. For many years have the 
affairs thereof been undtr my management ; and in that 
time, whatever- I tied she unloosed, and whatever I 
unloosed she tied. Whatever she resolved upon I was 
incapable of opposing ; and whatever she opposed, it 
was in vain for me to attempt.- Vexed with being 
continually foiled, and unable to apply a remedy, the 



world appeared dark in my eyes, and I voluntarily 
threw myself into this retirement." 

We must not suppose that this influence was thus 
powerful in the court of a weak or a dissipated prince : 
Mahmoud was one of the greatest monarchs whomever 
reigned ; almost the whole of his large empire he 
had conquered himself ; and it was governed entirely 
under his own inspection. The resentment Jemila 
Khandahari, or, v literally, the beauty of Khandahar, bore 
to Altun Tash, was occasioned by his opposition to the 
Vizir Ahmed Hassen, whom she' patronised. Gallan- 
try, at the same time, does not appear to have had any 
concern in her operations ; for Nezarifi observes, that 
though her favourite Ahmed corresponded with her often, 
th^y did not see one another perhaps once in twelve 

Richardson's Dissertations on the Languages of Eastern Nations. 

CANTOFOLI, (GINEURA) a female Pamter of 

WHO learned the art of the celebrated Siranus ; and 
from small paintings passed to greater works, which are 
seen in many altar-pieces, and other places. 

Abec. Pitt. 

CANTONI, (CATHERINE) a nolle Milanese ; but 
more distinguished for Her Talents in Design, and 
Embroidery, or Painting on Cloth. 

SHE painted for the Infanta of Austria ; their serene 

highnesses of Brunswick and Tuscany ; Philip II. 

king of Spain, and other princes. She brought her art 

1 4 even 


even to taking portraits from the life, flourished about 

Abec. Pitt. 

CAPELLO, (BIANCA) of the noble House of the Ca- 
petti at Venice > Grand Duchess of Tuscany. Died 

AGREEABLE to the customs of her country, Bianca 
spent the earlier days of her youth, remote from all so- 
ciety but that of her relations, 'in the palace of her father, 
Barfolomeo Capello. She, however, attracted the notice 
of a young Florentine, who was clerk at an opposite mer- 
chant's counting-house, called Pietro Buonavventuri, a 
youth of low parents, handsome in his person, amiable 
in his manners, of unbounded ambition, and fond of in- 
trigue. This natural bent of his mind, which had re- 
peatedly involved him in many a hazardous situation, 
prompted him to court the aiitctions of Bianca. 

He got acquainted with her as she went t.o mass, at- 
tended by her maid. On this occasion, he thought pro- 
per to give himeelf out for a partner in the house of 
fcalviati, in which he served; and Bianca, dazzled by 
exterior appearance, eagerly listened to his tale. She 
drew her maid into her interest; and, it was agreed, 
that they should meet by means of take keys. But the 
time came, when their intercourse could no longer be 
concealed; and Bianca seeing no other means of safety, 
yielded to the request of her lover, purloined a set of 
jewels from her father, and left Venice. 

On this journey, Buonavventuri first informed her of 
^his real situation in life, and she saw herself compelled 
to make him a tender of her hand. A priest per- 
formed the marriage ceremony, in a village near Bolog- 
na: and, after some wanderings, they both arrived at 
Florence, in the house of his father, where Bianca was 
so % .1 after delivered of a daughter. 



At Venice this elopement caused great disturbance. 
Her family called loudly for vengeance. The new mjar- 
ried couple were banished the country, as outlawed rob- 
bers; a reward of a thousand ducats was offered, to 
whoever should bring them to justice; and the accom- 
plices were suffered to die in prison. 

Biaiica was not ignorant of the severe decree. She 
was informed, that several banditti had been dispatched 
to Florence to find her out. Thus situated, the only 
safety she could hope for, was, from Francesco, the ruler 
of Tuscany, son of Cosmo; and to him she ap- 

She is supposed to have become acquainted with that 
prince in 15CJ4. The accident which occasioned this 
connection is uncertain; but it is said, that a disturb- 
ance in the street, called her one day to her win- 
dow, at the verv moment when he passed by on horse- 
back, when her uncommon beauty attracted his atten- 
tion; and,sfrom that time she kept herself still more con- 
fined at home, and even neglected to go to public wor-.- 

Srhehad, however, made a deep impression on the 
prince, who, by means of a lady, who traced her out, 
and made acquaintance with her, obtained the means of 
an interview, as if by chance. She implored his protec- 
tion. The disposition of her mind had been impaired 
by the event which had driven IUT from her country : 
sho had acquired the skill of eluding, by artifice and 
cunning, tho persecutions of her family and the laws. 
In him she met with a. protector who took her part with 
spirit. He entered into a negociat ion with the republic 
in her behalf, and endeavoured to obtain her parclon, 
through the means boih of the Florentine agent, and the 
I) untie of the pope; but every effort proved unsuccess- 
ful. He was become so infatuated, that his liberality 
towards Bianca knew no bounds. He spent the greatest 
part of his leisure time in her company, whibt she in re- 

i 5 tura 


turn seemed to live for her benefactor, rather than her 

At first, the connection was kept secret. His father, 
Cosmo, had, in the very same year in which Francesco 
formed his acquaintance with her, invested him with 
the greatest part of the ducal dignity and power, and 
himself retired into solitude. 

It was in the year 1566, a short time after the mar- 
riage of the prince with Joanna of Austria, that Bianca 
was introduced at court, and the partiality of the prince 
publicly avowed. He supported her in all she under- 
took, complied with her whims, and went so far as to 
pronounce a solemn vow, that she should be his consort, 
as soon as both parties were at liberty. 

Whilst Bianca enjoyed the favours of the prince, 
Buonavveiituri experienced the effects of his unbounded 
liberality; Francesco invested him with the office and 
title of chamberlain ; consulted him on the concerns of 
the state, and gave him a share in tire government. This 
unexpected change of fortune so elated him, that he com- 
mitted acts of the most cruel oppression, and treated 
Florentines of the first rank with extreme neglect and 
contempt; but, engaging in an intrigue w r ith a lady of 
noble family, from which the menaces and complaints of 
her relations, and the counsel erf Francesco and Bianca 
could nof deter him, he was assassinated in 156S. The 
prince promised Bianca to avenge him, but neglected to 
do it. 

She was now the avowed mistress of Francesco. All 
Florence was shocked at his conduct, and the most 
severe satires were circulated on the occasion, which, 
howeves, instead of bringing him back to the path 
of virtue, produced the contrary effect. Whoever 
had a petition to the prince, must apply to her; and, 
whoever had the promise of her support, might be as- 
sured of success: 'whereas, on the other hand, oppres- 
sion was the lot of him, who happened to incur her dis- 


pleasure. This made her an object of abhorrence and 
execration with the people. 

Bianca foresaw, that, notwithstanding the partiality 
of the prince, the discontent of the public might 
prove highly dangerous to her. To steer clear of 
this rock, she resolved to court the friendship of those 
individuals of the family of the Medici, who had some 
influence both on the prince arid the people, particularly 
of his brother, the cardinal Ferdinando, who had but a 
small share in the confidence of his brother, but enjoyed 
the affections of the people; and perhaps was the only 
individual of the iamily generally beloved by the Floren- 
tines. She managed to lay him under obligations, by 
obtaining an augmentation ofhis revenue, which he had 
in vain solicited from his brother. She shewed him the 
most uncommon defervnce on every occasion, anil se- 
cured the good wilLof the cardinal, notwithstanding she 
was the rival of his brother's consort 

By this politic conduct she soon obtained a perfect 
sway over the most prominent characters in the family of 
the Medici; and her influence at court rested on a basis 
the more solid, as Francesco pive her daily new proofs 
of his attachment Every body, even her avowed ene- 
mies, allow, that to die-most uncommon beauty she 
united the art, still more uncommon, of dispensing plea- 
sure and contentment, and of destroying the seeds of 
distrust arycl suspicion; qualities which could not fail to 
render her company daily more and more valuable to the 
prince. He was unhappy in his marriage, and the ui. - 
sentions, which constantly prevailed between, him and 
his brothers, afforded him but little satisfaction iij his 
family. Unpleasant and s:ev>re in her manners, tb? 
'prince soon conceived an unfeigned aversion for his 
\vife. lie shunned her compaiivvand took refige with 
Bianca. She became the object of universal admiration; 
for her the most splendid -entertainments were given, 
whilst the grand duchess sunk into total oblivion and IK;Z> 
lect.- This exasperated her to such a degree against Biau- 


ca, that, having once met her with Francesco on the bridge 
of LaTrinita, she was fully determined to have her thrown 
into the Arno. She was just giving one of her servants 
orders for that purpose, when Count Heliodoro Castelli, 
who attended her, had the good fortune to deter her 
from the attempt, by representing, that this notion of 
hers was a temptation of the devil, which she ought to 
resist. The religious princess startled at the idea, re- 
tired penitent, and Bianca was saved, who found means 
sometime afterwards to mitigate the hatred of her rival, 
and even for a short time to~obtain her favour. 

On every occasion that had hitherto occurred, Bianca 
had shewn her skill and artifice. Yet all her undertak- 
ings, during the first ten years of her residence at Flo- 
rence, had not exceeded the bounds of that influence, 
winch every handsome and artful favourite may have on 
the heart of a weak and blinded sovereign. The great 
plans which she had conceived from the very moment 
when Francesco made her the solemn promise of mar- 
riage, could not be carried into execution during the life 
of Cosmo; but his death, in 1574, and the accession of 
her lover to the sovereignty of the dukedom, gave her 
full scope for developing and perfecting her schemes with 
Jess restraint. Bianca knew r the anxiety of Francesco, 
who as yet had only daughters, for a male heir. 
When he promised -her his hand, as soon as they should 
be at liberty, he had added the express condition, that 
she must first have a son. The assassination of Bianca's 
husband had removed the grand obstacle on her side, 
whilst the declining health of the grand duchers, which 
was still more impaired through her unhappy temper, 
seemed to forbode her approaching dissolution ; yet this 

frand obstacle still remained ; but her former situation 
ad inspired her with resolution; and she knew, by 
the tenor of her own life, to what length artifice, at- 
tended with perseverance, would go. Whenever she 
iritt with an obstacle in her way, the most shock- 
ing acts of cruelty, and the meanest fraud, could riot 



deter her, if they served her purpose. Of this she gave 
the most convincing proofs on the present occasion. 
In 1570, a supposititious child was imposed on the grand 
duke, who readily believed what he wished; yet Bianca 
did not expect that her stratagem should remain con- 
cealed, whilst there existed anyone who knew 7 of it. 
She therefore contrived to rid herself of the wit- 
nesses ; they were all either murdered , drowned in 
the Arno, or some way or other dispatched. Joanna 
Santi, her maid and principal agent, a year after 
the transaction, was dismissed by Bianca and sent to 
Bologna; hut on her passage over the Appennines, was 
assaulted by a set of disguised banditti, who wounded 
her with several musquet-shots. She however arrived 
alive at Bologna, where she made an authentic declara- 
tion of every thing she knew of this aflaii, and of the 
violent death of all those who had any knowledge of it. 
She declared, that she took her murderers for banditti, 
hired by Bianca, who, fearing lest she should reveal her 
secret, had determined upon her assassination. This 
deposition was forwarded to Cardinal Ferdinando, 
who during Bianca' s life never made use ot it against 

Other suspicions had before arisen ; but Francesco could 
not think of the possibility of a deception; and his joy in 
having a son w r as so great, that he never made the least 
inquiry into the business; but, on the contrary, pub- 
licly acknowledged the little Don Antonio as his ofl- 
spring. Bianca, on her part, used every effort to en- 
dear the child to him. Letters are yet extant in the ur- 
ehives of Florence, which she caused him to write to his 
supposed father, when he was scarcely two years old. 
This is indeed buta trifling circumstance in itself, but 
i t evidently shew^s, how 7 artfully she seized upon every 
opportunity of courting the prince's aflectious for tiie 

It was at this period, that a reconciliation took place 
between Bianca and her family. Her father, in 1570', 



paid her a visit at Florence, and was loaded with pre- 
sents from the gran'd duke and his daughter; but this 
reconciliation was not considered in a very favourable 
light at Venice. He was never afterwards received in 
the senate, notwithstanding he was permitted to attend 
at the grand council. His connections with Bianca 
brought Francesco, that same year, into several dis- 
agreeable situations : they had noj|,only become the sub- 
ject of general satire and ridicu& to all the courts of 
Italy, but likewise threatened to bring on a very serious 
rupture with the court of Vienna, had it not been 
averted by the death of the emperor Maximilian, 
brother to the grand-duchess ; but his successor, Ru- 
dolph, whose interest it was to be u]x>n good terms with 
the grand-duke, endeavoured, ineffectually, to bring 
about a reconciliation. But on the birth of an heir to 
the dukedom, Francesco behaved with more kindness 
to his wife. 

Nobody now doubted that Bianca would soon be remov- 
ed. She actually retired from Florence for awhile, and 
lived either at her villa, or at Bologna, fur from the court, 
and apparently in no connection with the prince. But 
from this very circumstance she derived the greatest ad- 
vantage. He coul<j not live absent from the society he 
loved, and, in the fpifafring year, Bianca returned from 
her voluntary exile, but continued in appearance a life 
of retirement for some time./ _The grand- d uchess v. as 
fully convinced, that her husband had retiuquishad all 
connections with her. The plensiny deception did not, 
however, last long. She once happened to meet them 
as they were, going into the country : and, it is thought 
this circumstance occasioned her death, which has com- 
monly been attributed to a fall. So much is certain, that 
fihe returned home with the symptoms of the most 
profound dejection, and that very day was seized with 
an illness which put a period to her life. 

At the solemnity of her funeral, no symptom of grief 
was visible on his countenance ; and when the proo- - 



sion approached the house of Bianca, who then stood at 
her window, the grand duke took oft his mourning cap, 
and bowed to her. How little lie was afiected appears 
plain enough from the circumstance, that immediately 
alter the interment, he attended, a rout at Bianca's 

The latter, unable to hide the pleasure she felt, 
had now great hopes of becoming his wile. He had 
given her his promise upon oath, and Don Antonio 
passed, at least with jthe people, as his son. A cir- 
cumstance which raised her expectations still more 
was, that he refused to listen to the proposals of a mar- 
riage with the daughter of another sovereign prince. 
But, on the other hand, if he married the person who 
was publicly looked upon as the cause of all the mortifi- 
cations his departed consort had experienced, he must 
dread the displeasure of the house of Austria, whose 
favour was necessary for the support of his ambitious 
views. His best ministers and the ecclesiastics, at- 
tending his court, advised him to give up. every cori- 
ncction with her; and he himself was unsteady in his re- 

He consulted his ministers and his confessor ; and 
even took a tour to accomplish the vicfoi v over his feel- 
ings. She saw bow much she had to*ft j a$, and fre- 
quently wiote to him, varying her style accord- 
ing to the circumstances. Sometimes she would en- 
treat him in the most solemn manner not to with- 
draw his word ; then appear to resign herself to 
her destiny and leave Florence. She actually pre- 
pared for her departure, which, however, was 
delayed till the return of Francesco. Her agents were 
continually busied with representations in her fa-- 
vour; and, when the grand-duke was sufficiently pre- 
pared, she unexpectedly paid him a visit. f lhis was 
rnore than his resolution could withstand. He resumed 
the wonted course of his visits, and at last prepared an 
apartment'fcr her in the ducal palace. 



At this time he fell ill. Her tender attention, and the 
care she took of him till his recovery, endeared her more 
than ever to him, and before his recovery, in 1567, they 
were privately married. 

This was kept very secret during the mourning for 
the late grand-duchess. Nobody was surprised at Bi- 
anca's having apartment? assigned her in the palace, 
because a report prevailed that she had been appointed 
governess to the )~oung princesses. Meanwhile Fran- 
cesco was employed in sounding the opinion of the king 
of Spain, concerning his marriage, without whose con- 
currence he thought fit to do nothing of any import- 
ance ; and , having been apprized of his approbation, he 
published his wiion with Bianca at the expiration of the 

.Cardinal Ferdinando seems to have received intelli- 
ligence of this marriage some lime before it was pub- 
licly known. He refrained from manifesting his dis- 
pleasure ; he did not then suppose she would be 
declared grand-duchess. But Francesco was aware 
that his matrimonial connection with a person, who 
had fled from Venice, had been married to a man of 
vulgar extraction, end afterwards. been his own mistress, 
would be generally considered in a very dubious light. 
He endeavoured therefore to elude this unfavourable opi- 
nion, by applying to the Venetian senate to confer upon 
Bianca the title of a daughter of the Republic. The^e 
republicans had long before, from deep political motives, 
created this titfe, by which they enabled tbe daughters 
of the patricians to intermarry w ? ith sovereigns, und to 
assume the rank of princesses. The lady, who obtained 
this distinction^ had, in her quality of a daughter of 
Venice, the precedence over all the rest of the Italian 
princesses, and was, by all the world, considered as the 
daughter of a sovereign. 

On the seventeenth of July, 1597, Bianca was, by a. 
decree of the senate, invested with this rank ; and in 
their answers to the obliging letters of the duke, stiled 



grand-duchess ; though it cannot be proved, that 
Francesco intended her that dignity at the time when 
he married her. Nor can we infer, from the first let- 
ters of Bianca, that she at that time had any notion of 
being elevated "to the throne, "But they- affected to sup- 
pose, the pompous title of a daughter of the Republic 
would not otherwise have been sued for in her behalf. 

This important measure being thus resolved on, it 
was the wish of the grand-duke to see Biatica's corona- 
tion as a daughter of the Republic, and her presentation 
as grand-duchess, performed with the greatest pomp 
and solemnity ; he therefore requested the Venetians to 
send ambassadors to Florence to assist at her coronation ; 
and report says, that they, even in the most glorious 
epochas of their commonwealth, never sent so splendid 
an embassy before. 

On the thirteenth of October, 1597, she was pub- 
licly proclaimed grand-duchess of Tuscany, crowned 
daughter of the republic of Venice, and received the 
oath of allegiance, in the presence of the Florentine 
nobility, and a number of foreigners of distinction. Du- 
ring the stay of the ambassadors at Florence, Francesco 
displayed alt his splendour ; and his expences on the 
occasion are said to have amounted to one million of 
scudi. Bianca's father received a considerable annual 
pension, and she presented each of the ambassadors 
who were present, with a ring of the value of one thou- 
sand live hundred scudi. Francesco thanked the Ve- 
netian senate in a private letter, and, in the most oblig- 
ing expressions, promised the Republic all the obedi- 
ence a son owes to his parent, 

To the cardinal Ferdinando, the exaltation of Bianca, 
as an unexpected event, proved extremely irksome. He 
had not shewn any displeasure at his brother's marriage 
with her, whilst he entertained theopinion, that she was 
to be no more than his wife. But as the affair had taken 
a turn, quite contrary to his expectations, his resent- 
ment was roused, and not without cause. He dreaded 



some disagreeable catastrophe on the side of the foreign 
powers, the destruction of peace and harmony in the 
ducai family, and an infringement upon his own rights. 
She might yet bear his brother a son, to whom, in case 
Don Filippo were to die, he must leave the succes- 
sion. This idea tormented him the more, as he saw 
himself quite destitute of the means of preventing a 
second imposition. 

Of this enmity the Italian princes availed themselves 
to injure the grand-duke ; the most virulent satires ap- 
peared against his wife, and mortifications poured in 
from every, quarter. The only means of restoring 
his former consequence, was a speedy reconciliation 
with the cardinal. This Bhinca took upon herself, and 
in it she so completely succeeded, that in token of 
perfect reconciliation /lie repaired to Morence ir, the 
ensuing year, 1.5SO, and staid with his brother at his 
villa until winter. 

This reconciliation soon produced all the effects which 
were expected from it. The enemies of the grand-duke, 
\vho upon this had builttheirhopesof humblinghim, were 
astonished to see the cardinal return from Florence, the 
friend both of Francesco and of Bianca. She gloried 
in the happy consequences of a reconciliation, which 
she considered as her own work, and was highly grati- 
fied with the appellation of a restorer of peace in his fa- 
mily, which the cardinal himself wag pleased to bestow 
upon her. 

She did every thing in her power to obtain his 
confidence, and strove to accomplish his most secret 
wishes; for she hoped, through this conduct, to gain the 
ailections of the Florentines, who were extremely 
pleased with the unexpected concord of the two bro- 

But nothing could conquer the hatred which they 
had conceived against her. They could not bear 
the idea of seeing a person rule over them, whose 
private character was so obnoxious, and whom they 



looked upon as the chief cause of the dissenticms which 
had prevailed between their sovereign and his late eon- 
sort. They compared the liberality which he had 
shewn at her coronation, with his avarice towards the 
first princess and his brothers ; and in every circumstance 
found sufficient matter for scandal and invective. She 
was fond of curious machinery ; and partly perhaps 
from this cause was esteemed a witch. 

But an additional cause of the implacable hatred, 
which the Florentines bore her, was the protection she 
gave to spies ; a reproach she stands charged with m 
every historical record. She had aiways a number or 
these wretches in her pay, and is said, by that means, 
to have made some very important disco veries,ol which, 
however, history gives us no farther particulars. 

In this manner she actually secured herself and the 
grand-duke against all machinations; but, at the same 
time, lost the good opinion of the people. Nor did the 
good understanding between the court of Florence and 
the republic of Venice prove of long duration- 1 hough 
they had hitherto, at least in appearance, shewn them- 
selves true friends of the grand-duke, they thought, 
that since Bidnca's coronation, their new son had given 
them frequent cause of discontent. 

in 1512, several letters passed between the Re- 
public and Bianca, who wasotfemled-at their intention 
of creating the intended wife of an inferior prince, 
daughter of the Republic likewise. This event, whilst 
it prevented the conclusion of the marriage, occasioned, 
at the same time, the publicity of a disaffection, which 
had for a long time existed. 

About the same rime, the good understanding which 
through Bianca had been established among the Medici, 
was again disturbed. Though the cardinal had con- 
ceived a sort of affection for her, in return for the im- 
portant services, she had rendered him, he could not for- 
get, that through her artifice she had ascended the du- 
cal throne ; and, on the death of Don Filippo in 1582, 



he thought himself authorized to adopt measures more 
serious, and save his family from impending ruin, by 
counteracting and anticipating the intrigues he feared 
from Bianca. His first care was to entreat his bro- 
ther, Don Pietro, to marry. But- this prince 
lived in perpetual dissenticn with his brothers, and 
couid never be prevailed upon to -acquiesce in the cardi- 
dinal's wishe^. .His provocation was ttill greater, whtn, 
in the year 15S3, the gram 1 - luke, contrary to the ad- 
rice of the ablest statesmen, poblicly declared Don 
Antonio his legitimate son. Francesco had given him 
in lee many of the estates, forfeited by the subdued re- 
bels, and had added many more by purchase : at the 
same time, the king of Spain had conferred upon An- 
tonio the title of Prince of Capestrano, and appointed 
him his legate in Italy. 

From all these circumstances, Ferdinando suspected, 
that his brother and Bianca had formed the scheme of 
forwarding him to the succession of the government, 
with the support of Spain. This suspicion was still 
more confirmed when German guards were assigned 
to him, and many Florentines began to look upon him 
as the successor of the grand-duke, and actually paid 
him the honours due to the second person in the state. 
All these unpleasant innovations the cardinal attributed 
to Bianca, and not altogether without cause, which 
of course east a damp upon his affection for her: 

Bianca soon remarked the change in the cardinal's 
disposition ; but, perfectly skilled in the art of dissimuia- 
lation, never betrayed the least symptom of suspicion ; 
and, on the contrary, endeavoured more than ever to 
oblige him, eagerly seizing upon every opportunity to 

five him the most convincing proofs of her attachment, 
'his moderation on her side had so powerful an effect 
upon the cardinal, that he never could induce himself 
to come to an open rupture with her, particularly 
when at the highest pitch of his resentment, con- 
cerning Don Antonio, she conferred new obligations on 



his family, which challenged his gratitude, and for some 
time obliterated his distiust. 

In the mean time, Bianca's skilful hand conducted all 
the delicate manoeuvres of government with advantage 
and success, excepting when she interceded with her 
husband for the famous poet Tasso, whom he couid not 
be persuaded, even at her instance, to forgive. But Ferdi- 
nando was unable iong to suppress his distrust otBianca, 
arid often gave such evident marks of it, that her two fa- 
vourites, Serguidi and Abbioso could not help taking no- 
tice ol them. Whilst he kept upon good terms \vith 
her, they durst not show their animosity towards him, 
but as soon as they perceived the coolness which had 
taken place, they threw off the mask, strove to create 
distrust in the grand duke against the cardinal, and re- 
pre-enled him as a man, whose sole aim it was to in- 
crease his own private power and consequence, and who, 
in political concerns, ought not to be relied on. Fran- 
cesco, who at ail times suspected his brother, eagerly 
listened to their insinuations, and gradually withdrew 
his iove and confidence from him. 

Not long before his departure from Florence, the re- 
port had been spread of the pregnancy ot the grand- 
duchess. Never before had the cardinal's suspicious of 
the success of Biunca's intrigues been so strong as they 
were at this time; because, not only the grand-duke, 
but also many persons at court and in the capital, spoke 
of the matter with a degree of confidence. His con- 
cerns at Rome would not permit him to make a longer 
stay at Florence, for which reason he charged Don 
Pielro secretly to watch the motions of the grand du- 

This prince was just on the point of returning to 
Spain, but yielded to his brother's request, and post- 
poned his journey; wiiling to discharge his commission 
with integrity and zeal, but deficient in the chief qua- 
lities requisite for a similar undertaking, lie had neither 
the art to conceal his views, nor the temper of a cool 



observer. This latter defect led him astray upon every 
occasion; he saw nothing but fraud and deception 
wherever he cast his eyes, and thus lost sight of the 
chief object. The cardinal only suspected a stratagem, 
and had commissioned his brother to prevent its being 
carried into execution. Don Pietro took this supposi- 
tion for matter of fact; hence he looked with a suspi- 
cious eye upon whatever Bianca did, and established his 
doubts upon such grounds as even the cardinal himself 
could not admit. He went so far as to imagine, 
that Bianea's daughter, the countess Bentivoglio, who, 
during the absence of her husband, had retired to the 
ducal palace, was to aid her mother in the execution of 
the scheme. At last, Bianca acquainted him herself, 
that she did not think it was so : and by compelling 
her to this declaration, Don Pietro fulfilled the inten- 
tions of the cardinal. In the following year the hopes 
of the grand-duke were entirely defeated ; for Bianca's 
supposed pregnancy ended in an illness, which endan- 
gered her lite.. 

During the dissentions, she had constantly evinced 
the most friendly sentiments for the cardinal ; and en- 
deavoured, by her own moderation, meekness, and 
complacency, to compensate for the inveteracy and ob- 
stinacy of her consort. For this reason the cardinal 
chose to bring on a reconciliation with his brother, and 
wrote to her on the subject, towards the end of 1.586. 

Bianca, indeed, strove with -all earnestness to bring it 
about. She acquainted the grand duke with his brother's 
wish, and did it with a power of eloquence, that made the 
most successful impression upon his feelings. He requested 
her immediately to acquaint the cardinal with his sen- 
timents : and, to convince him of his sincerity," re- 
mitted him a considerable sum of luoney, for which 
he had long sinre sued without, effect. The only return 
on which he insisted, was, that he should pay him 
si visit at Florence. 

In the beginning of 1587, Ferdinando received tire in- 


telli^ence of the successful issue of Bianca's negotiations. 
He "approved, with unfeigned demonstrations of joy, 
all she had done, and sent a chamberlain to Florence 
to thank her and the grand- duke, and inform them of 
his arrival the enduing autumn. 

The concerns of the two brothers now no longer met 
with the usual impediments ; they rose again to their 
former consequence, and the pope himself adopted a 
more condescending conduct towards the cardinal. This 
man, Sextus V. so thoroughly versed in the wiles of 
court intrigues, was highly pleased with, Bianca's ma- 
nagement in this atfair, and called it a masterpiece in 

Ferdinando arrived at Florence, in the beginning of 
October. On the 13th, the grand-dtKe was taken ill ; 
at hrst, with an intermitting fever, which seemed to be 
of very little consequence ; but there soon appeared 
the most alarming symptoms of a mortal disorder. 

Two days afterwards Bianca likewise feit ill 01 the san;e 
disorder, and her symptoms soon proved mortal. She 
was never apprised of the catastrophe of her consort. 
The cardinal, from a motive of tenderness, had given 
the strictest orders that she' might not be informed of 
his death. But the uncommon bustle in the palace, 
and the dejection and sadness which were visible in 
every countenance, were Sufficient to make her guess at 
what was concealed from her, and to increase her iil- 
ness. Ferdinando visited her alter his brother's demise, 
and comforted her. She was sensible of her impending 
dissolution, told the cardinal of it, thanked him affec- 
tionately for his kindness, and recommended Don An- 
tonio and her family to his protection. 

In this state he left her with the archbishop of Florence, 
the great Bentivoglio, and her daughter. She expired 
in her forty-fifth year, nineteen hours after her consort. 

The new grand-duke had given positive orders, that 
the corpse of Bianca should be opened in the presence 
of her son-in-law, her daughter, Don Antonio, and se- 


veral physicians, who attested that,- a few excepted, all 
the interior parts of her body were found in a state of 
decay, and that, in all probability, she died of a dropsy. 
Immediately after this inquest the body was conveyed 
to the church of St. Lorenzo, attended as before men- 
tioned ; and, during the celebration of the mass, laid on 
the same funeral scaffold, which, t\vo days previous, 
had been erected for her ducal consort; After the ser- 
vice was over, the corpse was carried into the vestry, 
till the new grand-duke had been consulted, if the 
body should be publicly exposed with the ducal 
crown. His answer was ; " She has worn the crown 
long enough." When farther asked in what manner 
she should be interred, he replied ; " Proceed with her 
funeral as you please, but I will not suffer her to lie in 
our vault " 

A few days after her decease, her escutcheon was, by 
his order, taken oft from all the public edifices, and re- 
placed by the arms of Donna Joanna of Austria. Don 
Antonio was, by a special deed, declared an illegitimate 

Bianca had bequeathed, by her will, to her daughter, 
the counters BentSvoglio, thirty thousand scudi ; and to 
Don Antonio, part of her jewels, and thirty thousand 
scudi. The remainder of her jewels were to go 'to her 
father, and five thousand scuoi to her secretary. The 
grand-duke declared the will valid, and suffered its full 

Francesco's and Bianca's deaths succeeding each 
other so suddenly, gave rise to various reports, which 
soon gained credit with the multitude. Some said, that 
Bianca had attempted to poison the cardinal with a 
tart, of which he declined to partake ; but of which 

the grand-duke had eaten and that, when, she' 

saw this, she likewise partook of the poisoned meat, 
that she might join her consort in the grave, and thus 
avoid the punishment clue to her crime. Others relate 
the same story with this dillerence, that they charge the 



cardinal with the atroqous deed, and go so far fn exag- 
gerating his refinement in cruelty, as to assert that he 
not only opposed by force all those, who, at the cries of 
the helpless victims, came to their assistance, but that 
he went into the apartment where they lay expiring, for 
the purpose of adding insult to their sufferings. 

Her avowed enemies ttie Florentine writers, confess 
that a great share of the severity with which the cardi- 
nal treated her memory must be attributed to the ca- 
lumnies of those, who/during her life, were her most 
intimate friends, and, after her demise, proved her most 
inveterate accusers. His subsequent conduct clearly 
evinced, that he had been prejudiced against her through 
false accusations ; for he afterwards annulled sc/cval of 
his former resolutions. He solemnly re-adopted Don 
Antonio into his family, declared him his nephew, 
made an establishment tor him as a young prince of the 
house of Medici, and at last procured him the grand 
priorship of the order of Malta. Upon Bianca' s lather 
he settled a considerable annuity, and all her officers re- 
ceived handsome presents. He probably discovered 
that she, in many things, had been falsely accused, 
and hence resolved, as much as possible, to obliterate 
his past severity by acts of munificence. 

We meet in history with many instances of women, 
who, from the lowest situations of life, have risen to a 
high degree of rank, fortune, and opulence, and who, 
supported by the inclination of weak princes, have mar- 
ried them, and acquired all the rights of princesses. 
In this respect, they all bear a great resemblance. 
Yet among all these instances, that of Bianca is 
the most uncommon, if not the only one of the kind. 
For all those who exchanged the title of the mistress 
of the prince for that of his wife, were favoured either 
by the love of the people, by part of the family of the 
sovereign, or were free at least from public and glaring 

In the history of Bianca we see the reverse of all this. 
K She 


She was universally hated, had the whole family of Me- 
dici against her, stood, in the estimation of many, ccn.- 
victed, and, in that ot'a still greater number, suspected 
of the most heinous crimes : and the very prince whom 
she afterwards married, had, in the most unaccounta- 
ble manner, been deceived by her. It is astonishing 
indeed, that a young lady who, tili her twentieth year, 
had lived sequestered from the world, in the bosom of 
her own family, should, after her elopement from Ve- 
nice, form the most intricate plans in a foreign country, 
exhibit the greatest skill in court intrigue, and place 
herself on the throne of its sovereign. It appears incom- 
prehensible how she could execute such a' scheme, by 
the mero assistance of the affections of such a prince, 
arid in -spite of the universal detestation of the people. 
In the most important events of her life, she had no 
other guide, no other aid, but her good sense ; and, in 
this point of view, she claims all our admiration. In- 
exhaustible in ways and measures, she generally suc- 
ceeded in whatever she attempted. 

Both in political and family negotiations., her dis- 
cerning look, with one glance, distinguished the strong 
and weak sides of the persons concerned, and never 
failed to make .the best use of their dispositions for 
her own advantage. She would place her very ene- 
mies so as not only to frustrate their mischievous plans, 
tut even to make them instrumental in the attainment 
of the purposes she had in view. Her eloquence was 
ir.structive, soft, and blandishing ; she gained the 
good- will of every company in which she appeared : her 
very adversaries were compelled to admire her, at least, 
while she was present. 

But on the side of her heai>t, she appears in a much 
less advantageous li<>-ht. Her actions were seldom 
free from fraud, malice, and cruelty. These qualities 
she had gradually acquired through the embarrassments 
attending her first adventures. 

As a private person, she appears to very little advan- 


tage, and we may consider her intercession with the 
grand-duke in behalf of her first husband, as the last 
struggle of expiring principle. As grand-duchess, 
her actions were influenced by her connection with 
the house of the Medici. They, however, often 
appear dubious, so that it is impossible to deter- 
mine whether she was induced to them through politi- 
cal prudence, or a good disposition. The many chasms 
in the most important and interesting epoch of her 
history, render it very difficult, upon the whole, to ex- 
hibit a true picture of her character. Yet, from what 
is known of her, we are forced, to lament that a Wo- 
man endowed with qualities to shine forth among the 
best of her sex, should not have been placed in a 
situation, where she might have employed them for 
the happiness both of herself and others. 

Her stature was somewhat above the middle size ; per- 
fect harmony prevailed in all her person. Her counte- 
nance bespoke meekness, tempered with a little cast of 
cunning, and happily blended with a gloss of cheerful- 
ness, which animated every feature, and thus formed 
the most agreeable composition : her complection is said 
to have been extremely beautiful. 

Life of, by Siebenkees. 

CAPILLANA, (a Peruvian Princess J, died about the 
Middle of the sixteenth Century. 

HAVING become jr widow very young, she re- 
tired from court to a house she had in the country. 
Scarcely was she established there, when Pizarro appeared 
upon the coast. Having sent his people to reconnoitre 
the country, they penetrated to the palace of Capillana, 
who gave them all the succours they wanted ; and ex- 
pressed a desire to see their general. Pizarro came, and 
an attachment soon took place between them. He 


knew all the advantages of such a conquest ; and pro- 
iking of his ascendancy on the heart of Capillana, per- 
suaded her to embrace the Christian faith ; but the 
young princess was not easily convinced, and he left off 
the attempt ; yet afterwards applying herself to study 
the Spanish language, she became a convert. On 
the death of Pizarro, slie retired again to her retreat, and 
sought consolation in the knowledge she had acquired. 
In the library of the Dominicans of Puna, a manuscript 
of her composition is preserved, in which is painted, 
by her hand, ancient Peruvian monuments each ac- 
companied with a short historical explanation in the 
Castilian language. There is also a representation of 
many of their plants, with curious dissertations on their 
merit and properties. 


CARAFFA, (ROBERTA) Princess of Avellino, in tlie 
Kingdom of Naples, -wife ofCamillo Caraccioli, created 
Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece, by Philip 
III. King of Spain. 

WITH an early taste for literature, this lady possessed 
great beauty, modesty, and wisdom. While her hus- 
band was engaged in war, she maintained peace and 
concord in his family, and among his vassals. She ac- 
quired great reputation by her eloquence and her learned 
writings, of which it does not appear that any have 
reached the present times. 


CARCAS, (Widow of EalahacJ who had caused him- 
self to be crowned King of Carcassone , and died at the 
\ siege of that City, 

WAS a woman of uncommon courage. " A repre- 
sentation of her," says Mr. Gaillard, " is still to be seen 
over the gate of the city, with this inscription: Carcas 


sum-; the corruption of which has undoubtedly given 
name to the place. She undertook to avenge her hus- 
band's death ; and sustained the siege with so much 
bravery, that Charlemagne left her in possession of the 
sovereignty and jurisdiction of the city. Afterwards the 
Saracens came, and insulted the Countess of Carcassone 
under her own walls ; jesting at the idea of a female 
warrior, and recommending her to spin rather than to 
fight. Arming herself therefore with a lance, to which 
she affixed, as to a distaff, a quantity of hemp, leaving 
only the point bare ; she set fire to it, and rushed into 
the' midst of the enemy, whom she filled with terror, 
and put to flight. Her shiekl and victorious lance are yet 
shewn at Carcassone: the government of which, joined 
to her personal glory, induced the handsomest and 
bravest knights of the -time to solicit her hand, which 
she bestowed on. a young Frenchman, of the name of 

Madame Genlis. 

CARMENTA, or NICOSTRATA ; an ancient Poetess 
ofLatium ; flourished before the Foundation of Rome, 
in ivhich afterwards divine Honours were paid her. 

IT is supposed to be from her name that verses were 
named Carmina by the Latins. She was skilful also in 
the Greek language of a quick and lively wit, and con- 
versant in divers kinds of learning. 

F. c. &c. 

CARO, (ANNE) a Spanish Lady, who ivrote some ?Vz- 
genious Comedies. 



Daughter of John Frederick, Marcjuis of Brandenburg- 
Anspach. Born 1682-3, married to George II. at Ha- 
noier, 1705. Died 1737, aged 56. 

WAS so much admired for her beauty and fine endow- 
ments throughout the empire, that she was solicited to 
marry Charles III. king of Spain, afterwards emperor of 
Germany. To bring about this match, she was per- 
suaded to change her religion, but to no purpose; and 
this was the chief motive which induced the elector of 
Hanover, (George I.) to chuse her for the wife of his 
son, the electoral prince, a match which occasioned uni- 
versal joy among all the protestants, not only of the em- 
pire, but of Europe. 

She was crowned with her husband, in 1727 ; and 
had great political influence in this kingdom ; governing 
his mind by an entire submission to his will, and prompt 
attention to his comfort or wishes, even at the ex pence 
of her own health. The character given of this prin- 
cess by the baron de Polnitz, in the second volume of 
his memoirs, is as follows : 

44 The queen is a princess, in whom every thing that 
challenges respect, at the same time commands affec- 
tion. Her presence is majestic, but accompanied with 
modesty and good nature ; her behaviour courteous, and 
her wit both solid and sparkling. She always looked 
upon trifling amusements with disdain, and never affected 
ornament in dress. The reading of choice authors was 
always one of her greatest pleasures ; and she might be 
said to be one of the most learned princesses in Europe. 
Having lost her father when very young, and her mo- 
ther, the princess of Saxe-Eysnach, marrying again to 
George IV. elector of Saxony, she was left under the 
guardianship of Frederick, elector of Brandenburg, after- 
wards king of Prussia, by which means she spent part 
of her early days at the court of Berlin, where the elec- 



tress, sister to the late king, George I. gave her a tinc- 
ture of her own politeness and noble sentiments. Not 
many years after her marriage, she saw her father-in-law 
and her husband called to the possession of one of the 
chief thrones in the world. I was then at Hanover, and 
will venture to assure you, that th6 whole electoral fa- 
mily heard of this new addition to their greatness, with 
a moderation that rendered them worthy of their for- 
tune ; and the princess in particular demonstrated, that 
she was thoroughly satisfied in her mind, and could be 
happy without a crown. When she became princess of 
Wales, she was so prudent as to keep fair with both the 
parties, which then divide 1 the royal family. George I. 
her father-in-law, had a sincere esteem for her ; she in 
return paid him very great respect ; and when she be- 
came queen, contributed all in her power to make her 
subjects happy. The king let her into a share of af- 
fairs, and left her regent of the kingdom in his absence." 
To a large compass of knowledge, and great reach cf 
thought, she joined a polite address, the most easy and 
elegant manner of adducing the sentiments of others, or 
conveying her own : she not only studied books, but the 
nature and reason of things ; and was a great proficient 
in the science, or wisdom of life, both public and pri- 
vate, knowing how to subdue her own passions, and 
guide those of others. 

Female Worthies, &c, 

CARRIERA, (ROSALBA) a Venetian Painter in 
Crayons and Miniature. Died at Venice, 1757 or 
1761, aged 85. 

FROM her residence in France, is ranked with the 
painters of that kingdom. She is thus mentioned in the 
Letters on the French Nation. Rosalba, " At present 
better known than any of the preceding. What pity 
that her pieces should not be everlasting ! The finest 

* * piece 


piece in Crayons, that ever issued from mortal hands, 
is the Venus in M. Pompadour's collection. The piece 
she drew for her reception into the French academy, in 
1720, was a woman holding a crown of laurels, most 
elegantly done. Rosalba being attached to crayons and 
miniatures, carried them to so high a degree of merit, 
that she has seldom been equalled, never surpassed 
extreme correctness, and most profound knowledge of 
design, not being so absolutely essential in those kinds 
as in history ; she attained the end she proposed by the 
beauty of her colours, the purity and freshness of the 
tones, and the harmonious delicacy of her touch. The 
grace as well as the largeness of her manner equals that 
of the greatest masters.*' She was born at Venice in 1678, 
and learnt design of the Chevalier Diamantini, whom 
she sooa surpassed, and acquired sagreat a reputation, 
that all the academies in Europe were eager to admit her 
as one of their members. She was passionately fond 
of music ; played in a superior style on the harpsichord, 
and travelled into France and Germany. She is said also 
to have had a genius for poetry. Her merit procured her 
riches. She chiefly painted portraits, and spent the 
last twenty years of her life in her native country. 

, Abe6. Pitt. Madame Genlis, &c. 

CASALINA, (LUCIA) a Female Painter, of Bologna. 
Bom 1677. 

WHO studied under GioserTo dal Sole, and mar- 
ried Felix Touselli, a painter of the same school, where 
her works were exhibited. 

Abec. Pitt. 

CASTRO, (ANNE DE) a Spanish Lady, 

AUTHOR of many ingenious works ; amongst others, 



one entitled Eternidad del Rei Felippe III. printed at 
Madrid, 1629. The famous Lope de Vega has cele- 
brated this lady in his writings. 

F. c. 

CATELANS, (MADAME) a learned French Lady, 
of 'a good Family , at Narbonne. Born 1662. Died 
at Toulouse, where she had been crowned several 
Times for her poetical Talents, in 1745. 

CATHERINE, (canonized) a Virgin and Martyr of 
Alexandria, in the Persecution under Maximin, illus- 
trious for her Learning, Eloquence, and Piety. 

THERE are two other Catherines, distinguished by 
the same qualities : one of Sienna, who died in 1380; 
and the Qther of Bologna, died 1463, who wrote many 
religious works in Latin and Italian. 


CATHERINE of ARRAGON, (Queen of England J, 
youngest Daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, King 
and Queen of Spain. Married, in the eighteenth 
Year of her Age, 1501, to Arthur, Prince of Wales, 
eldest Son of Henry VII. with whom she lived only 
four Months and nineteen Days. Soon after his De- 
cease, she ivas contracted to Henry, Prince of Wales y 
afterwards King Henry VIII. Brother of her deceased 
Husband, then scarce twelve 'Years of Age. Died 
1535-6, aged 52. 

NOTWITHSTANDING the contract, that prince,, at 

fourteen years of age, made a public protestation^against 

it ; yet, being overcome by the advice of his council, he 

was married to her, immediately after his accession to 

x 5 the 


the throne, and both of them were crowned by Dr. 
Warham, then archbishop of Canterbury, July 5, 
1505. Her beauty, sweet disposition, and other ex- 
cellent qualifications, kept her almost for twenty years 
in the king's good graces. She was not only learned 
herself, but also a patroness of learned men ; more 
particularly of Ludovicus Vives, and the celebrated 

But though the king never discovered, during all this 
time, the least disaffection to her ; yet not having a son 
to succeed him, and the affronts offered to his daughter 
Mary by the courts of France and Spain, by declining 
an alliance on pretence of her illegitimacy, might make 
an impression on his mind; and, some scruples of con- 
science on a marriage which had been partly approved , 
partly condemned, by his father and counsellors, but 
more, perhaps, his becoming enamoured with the 
charms of Anne Boleyn, made him resolve to be di- 
vorced from his queen. When the cause was brought 
into court, she threw herself on her knees before him, 
appealing to him for the affection, faithfulness, and obe- 
dience of her conduct, during their union : beseeching 
him to protect her, a powerless and injured stranger, 
who had been the wife of his brother only by*title, 
from .the malice of her enemies : then, rising, she 
left the court, before which she would never again 
consent to appear. She accused cardinal Wolsey, as 
the author of her calamities, because she could not al- 
ways tolerate his vices, and her nephew, the emperor, 
had disappointed his views of the papacy. 

The affair of the divorce being determined ; without 
submitting to a sentence not sanctioned by the pope, or 
renouncing her pretensions, she retired to Kimbolton 
castle, in Huntingdonshire; where she led a life of con- 
stant devotion and remarkable austerity, for the space 
of three years, when she fell dangerously ill,, about the 
latter end of December, 1535. Six days after which, 



being very weak, she dictated the following letter to 
the king: 

(( My king and dearest spouse, 

" Insomuch as already the hour of my death ap- 
proacheth, the love and affection I bear you, causeth 
me to conjure you to have a care of the eternal salvation 
of your soul, which you ought to prefer before mortal 
things, or all worldly blessings. It is for this immortal 
spirit you must neglect the care of your body, for the 
love of which you have thrown me headlong into many 
calamities,, and your ownself into infinite disturbances.- 
But I forgive you with all my heart, humbly beseech- 
ing Almighty God, he will in heaven confirm the par- 
don I on earth give you.. I recommend unto you our 
most dear Mary, your, daughter and mine, praying you 
to be a better father to her than you have been a husband 
tome : remember also three poor maids, companions of 
my retirement, as likewise all the rest of my servants, 
giving them a whole year's wages besides what is due, 
that so they may be a little recompensed for the good 
service they have done me ; protesting unto you, in. the 
conclusion of this my letter and life, that my eyes love 
you, and desire to see you more than any thing mor- 

This -letter drew tears from the king. In a few days 
after, she died at .Kimbolton. In her will, she ap- 
pointed her interment to be p;iv,,le, in a convent of Ob- 
servant friars, who had done ond suffered much .'or her : 
the king complied with her request in regard to .her ser- 
vants ; but would not permit her remains to be buried 
as she desired, perhaps more to show his resentment to 
that religious order, who had been againsl : him in the 
affair of the divorce, than in oppositicn to W will. He 
ordered her to be interred in the abbey ciiurch of Peter- 
borough, with all the pomp and ceremony due to her 
high birth. And, in respect to her remains, though 
there was a dissolution of all the fcigious houses ia 



1543, he not only spared that abbey-church, but ad- 
vanced it to the dignity of a cathedral. 

Female Worthies,. < 

; CATHERINE I. (Empress of Russia J 9 

WAS the natural daughter of a country girl, and was 
born at Ringen, a small village upon the lakeVirtcherve, 
near Dorpt, in Livonia. The year of her birth is un- 
certain ; but, according to her own account, it was on 
the fifth of April, 1687. Her original name was Martha, 
which she changed for Catherine, when she embraced 
the Greek religion. Count Rosen, a lieutenant-colonel 
in the Swedish service, who owned the village of 
Ringen, supported, according to the custom of the 
country, both the mother and the child ; and was for 
that reason, supposed by many persons to have been 
her father. She lost her mother when but three years 
old ; and as he died about the same time, she was left 
in so destitute a situation, that the parish-clerk received 
her into his house. Soon afterwards, Gluck, a Lutheran 
minister of Marienburgh, happening, in a journey 
through these parts, to see the foundling ; either to re- 
lieve the poor clerk from a burthen he could not well 
support, or from a particular prepossession in favour of 
the little orphan, took her under his protection, brought 
her up in his family, and employed her in attending 
his children. 

In 1701, and about the fourteenth year of her age, 
she espoused a dragoon, of the Swedish garrison of Ma- 
rienburgh. Many different accounts are given of this 
transaction : one author of great credit affirms, that the 
bride and bridegroom remained together eight days 
after their marriage ; angther, of no less authority, 
asserts, on the contrary, that the morning of their nup- 
tials, her husband was sent with a detachment for Riga. 
Thus much is; certain, that the dragoon was absent 



when Marienburgh surrendered to the Russians, and 
that Catherine never saw him more. 

General Bauer, upon the taking of the place, saw 
Catherine among the prisoners ; and being smitten with 
her youth and beauty, took her to his house, where 
she superintended his domestic affairs, as a sort of 
house-keeper. Soon after she was removed, still acting 
in the same capacity, into the family of prince Menzi- 
koff, who was no less struck with the attractions of the 
fair captive : with him she -lived until 1704, when, in 
the seventeenth year of her age, she became the ser- 
vant, or as some say, the mistress of Peter the Great, 
and won so much upon his affections, that he espoused 
her on the 29th of May, 1711. The ceremony was 
secretly performed at Jawerof, in Poland, in the pre- 
sence of general Bruce ; and , on the 20th of February, 
1712, it was publicly solemnized with great pomp at 

Catherine, by the most unwearied assiduity and unre- 
in itted attention, by the softness and complacency of her 
disposition, but, above all, by an extraordinary liveliness 
and gaiety of temper, acquired a wonderful ascendancy 
over the mind of Peter. The latter was subject to occa- 
sional horrors, which at times rendered him gloomy and 
suspicious, and raised his passions to such a height, as 
to produce a temporary madness. In these dreadful mo- 
ments, she was the only person who durst venture to 
approach him; and such was the kind of fascination she 
had acquired over his senses, that her presence had an 
instantaneous effect, and the first sound of her voice 
composed his mind and calmed his agonies. From these 
circumstances, she seemed necessary, not only to his 
comfort, but even to his existence : she became his in- 
separable companion in his journeys into foreign coun- 
tries, and even in all his military expeditions. 

Peter, in his campaign of 17 11, against the Turks, 
having imprudently led his troops into a disadvantage- 
ous situation, where they were not only desitute of fo- 


rage and provisions, but even of the means of quenching' 
their thirst, the grand vizier determined to reduce tlie 
czar and his exhausted army by famine. In this despe- 
rate extremity, when the loss of his army seemed the 
least evil that could befal him, the czar, on the approach 
of night, retired to his tent in violent agitation of mind ; 
.giving positive orders, that no person whatever, upon 
pain of death, should be admitted to disturb his privacy, 
to behold his exquisite distress, or shake a resolution he 
had formed of attempting, next morning, to force his 
xvay through the enemy with fixed bayonets. Cathe- 
rine, boldly exposing her person to every danger, 
thought proper to break through these orders. She venr 
tured for once to disobey, but it was to save him and his 
whole camp from death or slavery. ^Entering the melan- 
choly abode of her husband, and throwing herself at his 
feet, she entreated the czar to peimit her to offer, in his 
name, proposals of pe:ice to the grand vizier. Peter, 
after some hesitation, consented, signed the letter she 
presented to him, which Shafirof, the chancellor, and 
the generals, had before concerted, and the peace of 
Pruth was concluded upon. T hi,? action gained Cathe- 
rine great popularity, and ;he emperor particularly spe- 
cified it as one of the reasons which induced him to 
crown her publicly a| Moscow with his own hand. This 
ceremony was performed in 1724, and although design- 
ed by Peter only as a proof of his affection, was the prin- 
cipal cause of her subsequent elevation. 

Towards the latter end of 1714, the czar instituted ths 
new order of St. C..'herine, in her hcmour, and to perpe- 
tuate the memory of her love to him on the banks of the 
river Pruth. He invested her with full power to bestow 
it on such of her own sex as she c hould think proper/ 
The ensigr.s of this order are, a broad white ribband 
worn over the right shoulder, withamedal*ofStr. Cathe- 
rine adorned with precious stone?, and the motto 
M Out of love and fidelity." 

She had one son by the emperor, wh was to have 



succeeded him, but" died young. Catherine's infra* 
ence, however, was n^t ken by this event. The most 
noble par*- of her chc; r as her peculiar humanity 

and compassion for the unfortunate. Motraye has paid 
a handsome tribute to this excellence. " She had, in 
some c ort, the government of all his (Peter's) passions, 
and even saved the lives of a great many more persons 
than Le ort W-IH able 10 do: she inspired him with that 
humanity, which, in the opinion of his subjects, nature 
seemed to have denied him. A word from her mouth, 
in favour of a wretch just going to be sacrificed to his 
anger, would disarm him; but if he was fully resolved 
to satisfy that passion, he would give orders for the exe- 
cution when she wis absent, tor fear she should plead 
for the victim." In a word, to use the expression of 
the celebrated Munich, She was truly- the mediatress be- 
tween the monarch and his subjects. 

A coolness, however, is paid to have happened between 
them a little before his death., occasioned by the empe- 
ror's suspicions, OP ro;A T i.- : :ion, of a secret connection be- 
tween Catherine and he; first chamberlain, whose name 
was Mons. The emperor, who was suspicious of this, 
by a feigned abs; -ized her in an arbour in the 

garden with him, mister, first lady of the 

bed-chambtr, in company with a page, stood on the 
outside. Peter was so enraged, that he is reported to 
have struck Catherine with i/iscane, and Mons, with his 
sister, &c. were taken into Custody. They were accused 
of having received bribes, and makmg their influence 
over the eir. press subservient to their own mercenary 
views. Mons being threatened with the torture, con- 
fessed the corruption laid to his charge, and was behead- 
ed. His sister received live strokes of the knout, and 
was banished into Siberia, from whence the empress af- 
terwards recalled her. Oa. the day after the execution 
of the former sentence, Peter conveyed Catherine in an 
open carriage under the gallows, to which was nailed 
tie head of Mons. The empress, without changing co- 


lour, exclaimed " What a pity it is there is so much 
corruption among courtiers'." 

This event happened in the latter end of the year 
1724. Peter's last sickness came on soon after; and 
while he was laying in the agonies of death, several op- 
posite parties were caballing to dispose of the crown. 
At a considerable meeting of many among the principal 
nobility, it was secretly determined, on the moment of 
his dissolution, to arrest Catherine, and place Peter 
Alexievitch, his grandson, on the throne. Bassevitz, 
apprized of this resolution, repaired in person to the em- 
press, although it was already night. " My grief and 
consternation," replied Catherine, " render me incapa- J 
ble of acting myself : do you and prince Menzikof con- 
sult together, and I will embrace the measures which 
you shall approve in my name." Bassevitz, finding 
Menzikof asleep, awakened and informed him of the 
pressing danger which threatened the empress and her 
party. As no time remained for long deliberation, the 
prince instantly seized the treasure, secured the fortress, 
gained the officers of the guards by bribes and promises, 
also a few of the nobility, and principal clergy. These 
partizans being convened in the palace, Catherine made 
her appearance. She claimed the throne in right of her 
coronation at Moscow : she exposed the ill effects of a 
minority; and promised, that " so far from depriving 
the grand-duke of the crown, she would receive it only 
as a sacred deposit, to be restored to him, when she 
should be united, in another world, to an adored hus- 
band, whom she was now upon the point of losing." 
The pathetic manner in whirh she uttered this ad- 
dress, and the tears which accompanied it, added to the 
previous distribution of money, produced the desired ef- 
fect, and the remainder of the night was employed in 
making the necessary preparations to ensure her succes- 
sion in case of the emperor's death. 

Peter expired in the morningj of the 28th of Jan- 
uary, O. S. 1725. This event being made known, 



tiie senate, the generals, the principal nobility and cler- 
gy, hastened to the palace to proclaim the new sovereign. 
The adherents of the great-duke seemed secure of suc- 
cess, and the friends of Catherine were avoided as per- 
sons doomed to destruction. At this juncture, Basse- 
vitz whispered one of the opposite party, "The empress 
is mistress of the treasures and the fortress ; she has 
gained over the guards and the synod, and many of the 
chief nobility, and even here she has more followers 
than you imagine ; advise, therefore, your friends to 
make no opposition, as they value their heads." This 
information being rapidly circulated, Bassevitz gave 
the appointed signal, and the two regiments of guards, 
who had been gained by a largess to declare for Ca- 
therine, and had already surrounded the palace, beat to 
arms. ''Who has dared," exclaimed Prince Repnin, 
the commander in chief, "to order out the troops 
without my knowledge ?" " I,*' returned general But- 
terlin, " without pretending to dispute your authority, 
in obedience to the commands of my most gracious mis- 
tress. " This short reply was followed by a dead silence. 
In this moment of suspense and anxiety, Menzikof en- 
tered, preceding Catherine, who came supported by the 
duke of Holstein. She attempted to speak, but was at 
first prevented by sighs and tears from giving utterance 
to her words; but at length recovering herself, said, that 
in obedience to the will of her husband, she was ready to 
devote her days. to the painful occupations of govern- 
ment. She desired them to deliberate maturely on this 
important subject, and promised to adopt whatever was 
the result of their decisions. 

In fine, Catherine was unanimously declared empress 
of all the Russias. About eight o'clock in the morning 
they were introduced to the empress by prince Menzi- 
kof (the first instrument of her elevation, and to whose 
advice she afterwards paid great deference), when they 
presented the act of their submission in writing, and took 
the usual oaths of fidelity. She received them very gra- 


ciously, and assured them she would be a mother to her 
country, as the emperor had been its father. The gene- 
ral grsef which appeared amongst all ranks and degrees 
of people is not to be expressed ; even the soldiers were 
dissolved in tears, and would not be comforted till they 
were informed t^at the empress Catherine was proclaim- 
ed their sovereign; which they no sooner heard, than 
they flocked rn crowds to the palace to take the accus- 
tomed oaths, crying out as they went, " If our father 
is dead, our mother still lives!" 

Her first care was to pay the last duties to her hus- 
band's ashes, with a pomp becoming the greatest mo- 
narch that Russia had -ever known ; and though there 
is no court in Europe where splendour and magnificence 
is carried to a greater height, on these occasions, than in 
that of Russia, it may with great truth be said, that she 
even surpassed herself in the funeral honours paid to her 
great Peter. She purchased the most precious kinds of 
marble, and employed some of the ablest sculptors of 
Italy to erect a mausoleum to this hero, which might, 
if possible, transmit the remembrance of his great ac- 
tions to the most distant ages. 

Catherine reigned two years and three months, in a 
manner which became the wife of so great a man ; took 
all proper steps to secure the quiet of her dominions, to 
find out the revenues of the clergy, and to settle the suc- 
cession. She established the academy of sciences at Pe- 
tersburgh, increased her marine, and carried on the pro- 
ject of discovering the north-east passage to China*. A 
cancer and dropsy accelerated her death, and she expir- 
ed on the 17th of May, 1727, in about the 40th year of 
her age. 

* Before she came to th 3 throne, the women were in a state of bond- 
age, but she undertook to introduce mixed assemblies, as in other states 
of Europe, and by this policy made the first step towards polishing the 
manners cf her uncultivated people. 



She was, in her person, under the middle size, and in 
her youth delicate and well formed, but inclined to cor- 
pulency as she advanced in years. She had a fair com- 
plexion, dark eyes, and light hair, which she was al- 
ways accustomed to dye with a black coleur. Colonel 
Bruce affirms, that the clerk of Ringen taught her to 
read, but others say, she could neither read nor write. 
Her daughter Elizabeth usually signed her name for her, 
and particularly to her last will and testament, and 
count Osterman generally put her signature to the pub- 
lic decrees and dispatches. Gordon, who had frequently 
seen her, says, " She was a very pretty well-looking 
woman, of good sense, but not of that sublimity of wit, 
or rather that quickness of imagination, which some 
people have believed. The great reason why the czar 
was so fond of her, was her exceeding good temper; 
she never was seen peevish or out of humour; obliging 
and civil to all, and never forgetful of her former condi- 
tion; withal, mighty grateful." Catharine maintained 
the pomp of majesty with an air of ease and grandeur 
united, and Peter used frequently to express his admira- 
tion at the propriety with which she supported her high 
station, without forgetting she was not bom to that dig* 

She reigned little more than two years alone. She had 
several daughters by the czar, the youngest of whom, 
Elizabeth, after the heirs of the elder branches were ex- 
tinct, ascended the throne in December, 1741. 

Voltaire, in his history of the czar Peter, speaks of her 
in the following terms. " The lenity of this princess, 
(says he) has been carried to a degree unparalleled in 
the history of any nation . She had promised , that d tir- 
ing her reign nobody should be put to death, and she has 
kept her word. She is the first sovereign that ever 
shewed this regard to the human species, malefactors are 
now condemned to serve in the mines, and other public 
works; a regulation not less prudent than humane, since 



it renders their punishment of some advantage to the 

Coxe's Travel's into Russia, &c. Russel's Modern Europe. Uni- / 
versal History. Biographical Dictionary. Memoirs of Peter Hea- 
ry Bruce, Esq. Ann. Reg. 

CATHARINE II. f Empress of Russia), 

DAUGHTER of Christian Augustus, prince of 4nhalt- 
Zerbst, and born at Stettin, in the king of Prussia's do- 
minions,, May 2, 1729. Her name, at that time, was 
Sophia Augusta Frederica. A lady of quality, who fre- 
quently saw her, describes her in the following manner. 
' Her deportment, at that time, was remarkably good ; 
she grew uncommonly handsome, and was a great ghi 
for her years. Her countenance, without being beauti- 
ful, was very agreeable: to which the peculiar gaiety 
and friendliness which she ever displayed gave additional 
charms. Her education was conducted by her mother 
alone, who kept her strictly, and never suffered her to 
shew the least symptom of pride, to which she had 
some propensity ; accustoming her, from her earliest in- 
fancy, to salute the ladies of distinction who came to vi- 
sit the princess, with the marks of respect that became a 

She lived till her fifteenth year alternately in Stettin, 
and in Dornburg or Zerbst, always accompanying her 
mother on little journies to Berlin, and different places 
in Germany, which contributed much to form her mind 
and manners. She was early addicted to reading and 
employment. At Brunswick, in 1743, she was duly 
instructed in the doctrines of the Lutheran religion, by 
the court preachei Dove, who at that time little thought 
his illustrious disciple \vould so suddenly afterwards 
adopt the faith of another church. 

Elizabeth, empress of Russia, proposed to the king of 
Prussia a marriage between his sister and her nephew, 



the young duke of Holstein, whom she had adopted. 
But Frederick was not fond of the changes of religion re- 
quired in Russia on such occasions, and declined the of- 
fer, but pointed oat the princess Sophia of Zerb-st, as 
a relation of the grand-duke (their grandfathers were 
brothers), and this proposal met with the empress's full 

The princess of Zerbst accordingly repaired to Peters- 
burg, where she was cordially received. Her daugh- 
ter, who was handsome, and endowed with all the graces 
of youth, immediately made a forcible impression on the 
heart of the young grand-duke; and as he himself was 
at that time "good-looking and well made, the attach- 
ment became reciprocal. 

But while magnificent preparations were making for 
their nuptials, 1 the grand-duke was attacked with a vio- 
lent fever, and a small-pox of a very malignant nature 
soon made its appearance. The prince did not fall un- 
der the violence of this disease, but the metamorphosis 
was terrible. He not only lost the comeliness of his face, 
but it became for a time distorted and almost hideous. 

Notwithstanding the precaution of her mother, who 
had forewarned her of the change, Catharine could not 
revisit the grand duke without feeling secret horror; she 
was artful enough, however, to repress her emotion, and 
running to meet him, fell upon his neck and embraced 
him. ' But no sooner retired to her apartment, than 
she fell into a swoon, and it was three hours before she 
recovered the use of her senses. 

The nuptials were soon after solemnized, and they 
lived ^ome time in an apparently good understanding, 
which Catharine compelled herself to support as long as 
she conceived it necessary, though more and more dis- 
satisfied with her husband. Peter had sense, but his edu- 
cation had been totally neglected He possessed an ex- 
cellent heart, but he wanted politeness, and was become 
very ugly. He frequently blushed at the superiority of 
his wife, and his wife as often at seeing him so little 



worthy of her. Hence arose that mutual dislike which 
soon became but too visible, and which was daily in- 

The principal families had beheld Peter with jealousy 
from the instant of his arrival, as a man Who would 
share with them the power they had now long enjoyed, 
or perhaps entirely deprive them of it. Among those 
who strove most to injure him, was the great chancellor 
Bestucheff. His foresight was too great to allow him 
to flatter himself with the expectation of seeing Peter 
completety disinherited, but he hoped at least to banish 
him to the camps and armies, and to place Catharine at 
the head of affairs. 

Soon after his marriage, his aunt had made Peter a pre- 
sent of Oranienbaum, a country palace; and, as soon as 
the fair weather .permitted him to leave Petersburg, 
where .he lived more like a state prisoner than the heir 
of .a throne, thither he used to retire, amuse him- 
self w-th the practice of the Prussian military exer- 
cise, and give way to habits which his enemies had 
first been the occasion of practising, by persuading 
him, that it was in drinking, smoking, and gaming, that 
the Prussian officers spent t.!u*ir leisure hours. 

Cathanne, all this time, was pursuing a conduct to- 
tally different. She was employed solely in gaining 
partizans from among the most powerful persons of the 
court; yet her mother failed herself in the circumspec- 
tion she advised, and being too busy in state matters, 
was ordered by the empress to leave the kingdom. 

Catharine could not, without great regret, see her 
mother depart; but the hope of the throne, which for- 
tified her against other misfortunes, supported her un- 
der this, and a coiineotion she soon formed drove it ef- 
fectually from her mind. 

A handsome and tolerably well-accomplished young 
man, named Soitikoff, found means at Oranienbaum to 
withdraw her fidelity from the grand duke. He was 
chamberlain to Peter, and not in the least suspected by 

him ; 


him ; but others saw clearer, and secretly found means 
to accuse him to the empress, who threatened him with 
Siberia. With the indignant air of innocence, he com- 
plained to the grand duke of the slander, appealed to 
him, and begged leave to retire to Moscow. The credu- 
lous prince believed him, undertook his defence, and ob- 
tained his pardon, while the affair occasioned a tempo- 
rary return of kindness between Peter and Catharine, but 
Soltikoff still continued in favour, and the chancellor paid 
him great court, secretly persuading him to remove 
every respectable character from his master, and sup- 
ply their places with vile and obscure persons. As soon 
as he had done this, Bestucheff complained of him to the 
empress, who sent him to Stockholm to notify to the 
king the birth of Paul Petrovitch, of whom the grand 
duchess had just been delivered, Oct. 1, 1754. 

On his return, he was stopped, and desired to reside 
at Hamburgh. The grand duchess would have solicited 
his return, but the chancellor told her the consequences, 
and ambition silenced love. She, however, wrote to 
him, and frequently received answers; when all at once, 
the arrival of the young count Stanislaus Poniatofsky, 
whom she afterwards raised to the throne of Poland and 
again hurled from it, banished all remembrance of Solti- 
koff; bat Elizabeth was quickly informed of this intri- 
gue, and ijavc orders to Poniatoisky to leave Russia with- 
out delay, which he obeyed ; but Bestucheff, studying 
to render himsei: * v eeable to Catharine, colleagued 
with the Polish minister, Poniatofsky was sent back 
as minister plenipotentiary, and he contrived also to gain 
the favour of the grand duke. 

Forgetful of the lessons of prudence taught her by 
her mother, but which she afterwards took as rules for 
her conduct, Catharine betrayed a faint imitation of the 
irregularities of her aunt the empress, and public report 
began to be very loud in her prejudice. 

The grand duke alone knew nothing of what was pas- 
sing, till Bestucheff fell into disgrace, when his enemies 



called his attention to the conduct of Catharine and Po- 

Peter was overwhelmed with grief and consternation, 
and no longer observed the respect he had hitherto 
shewn the grand duchess. He forbade her to be seen 
with Poniatofsky, and then hastened to the empress, 
and besought her to revenge the affront he had received ; 
telling her, that the chancellor had not only favoured 
their misconduct, but repeatedly betrayed her con- 
fidence. Bestucheff was arrested on the spot. At once 
deprived of his place, tried, pronounced guilty of 
treason, and sentenced to death; but the empress con- 
tented herself with banishing him to an estate at a con- 
siderable distance from Moscow. 

Catharine now, abandoned on all sides, resolved to 
try what her 'eloquence would do with the empress once 
mori, and demanded an audience, which Elizabeth re- 
fused. She applied to the French ambassador, but he 
declined interfering. Still, however, the young Pole 
did not quit Russia. 

The grand duke, about this time, forming an at- 
tachment with the sister of the beautiful and spirited 
princess DashkofF, who afterwards made such a distin- 
guished figure, fell into some disgrace with Eliza- 
beth^ whose health visibly declined. Catharine thought 
this a favourable opportunity. She threw herself at her 
feet, and implored forgiveness ; but she would listen to 
no accommodation, except on the most mortifying condi- 
tions. It was afterwards proposed to her, by message, 
to confess her guilt, and submit to the clemency of her 
husband and the empress. 

From this moment Catherine summoned up all her 
pride : she purposely avoided appearing at court, kept 
close to her apartment^, and asked leave of the empress 
to retire into Germany ; a permission which she was 
very sure of being refused : the extreme fondness of 
Elizabeth for the young Paul Petrovitch would never let 
her consent to the departure of a child's mother, which 



would thereby be exposed to the hazard of being here- 
after declared illegitimate. The stratagem succeeded ; 
an accommodation shortly after ensued, and, to the 
great astonishment of the court, she made her appear- 
ance at the theatre, by the side of the empress, who 
paid her much attention. 

In the mean time, the cabal, formed by Bestucheft, 
continued to blacken Peter in the eyes of his aunt, 
so that she began to think of leaving the empire 
to her favourite grand nephew ; but whatever were her 
designs, the execution was prevented by death. While 
her "end was rapidly approaching, the court divided 
into two powerful parties ; one consisted of the remains 
of the friends of Bestucheff, with count Ivan Schuv aloft at' 
their head ; which the grand duchess secretly seconded 
with all her power. Animated by the two-fold motive 
of ambition and fear. 

The other party was headed by the senator Voront- 
zoft", brother of the new grand chancellor, and father of 
the emperor's mistress. Guided by him, Peter resolved 
to assemble the troops at the instant the empress should 
close her eyes, cause himself to be proclaimed empe- 
ror, repudiate the grand duchess, declare her son illegiti- 
mate, and publicly marry his daughter. All things seemed 
to favour the success of this enterprize ; but while per- 
petual intrigues and agitations iilled the court of the 
.dying monarch, count Panin, who afterwards filled, 
for many years, the place of prime minister, undertook 
to reconcile all their opinions. He devoted himself en- 
tirely to Catherine ; but saw the dangers with which 
she was surrounded, and accordingly resolved to bring 
about a revolution, that. Peter might ascend the throne ; 
but that the power might be secured to his wife and 
son. He persuaded the heads of Catherine's party, 
that they were too daring ; and Peter SchuvalolT, in his 
turn, who was ill, saw the grand duke, and told him 
the ideas entertained of his future conduct ; assuring 
him, if he repudiated the grand-duchess and mar- 

L ried 


ricd Ronranovna, he would dishonour his memory for 
ever. The grand dake, in indecisive manner, de- 
nied that lie intended this, and promised to forget all the 
machinations formed against him. 
^ The empress had been so prejudiced against Peter, 
tnat she was alarmed with the idea that he might poison 
her, and had denied him and the grand duchess ad- 
mission into her apartment ever since Her illness. This, 
among such credulous people, would have been a 
very suspicious affair, had she died without seeing 
them; Panin therefore prevailed on the confessor of 
Elizabeth, to urge her to forgive, in the hope of being 
forgiven. She consented, the grand duke and duchess 
entered, and received a blessing pronounced with care- 
lessness and languor. 

Elizabeth died on Christmas-day,' 1761, and the 
grand-duke ascended the throne without the least 
mark of discontent or ill-will. He was thought too 
fond of the Germans ; but to the astonishment of those 
who knew him only by his vices, his first measures 
were popular and auspicious : to Catherine, he seemed 
to forget the wrongs he had received, passed a great 
part of the day in her apartments, discoursed with her 
on the most friendly footing, and consulted her on all 
delicate and important affairs. He affranchised the no- 
bles, and put an end to a cruel form of law, which 
oppressed the people : but he soon began to sink into in- 
toxication and all his old habits. What prevented him 
most from gaining the confidence of the people, was their 
firm persuasion that he preferred the Lutheran to the 
Greek religion. He took the treasures of the church 
into his own hands, put the clergy on yearly salaries, 
and did many things obnoxious to the religious preju- 
dices of the Russians, such as taking down the figures 
of the saints, &c. : and, at the same time, by a num- 
ber of unpopular acts, got out of favour with the army. 
II is behaviour to his wife was equally inconsistent ; at 
the very moment when he was doing homage to the su- 


periority of her mind, he would let slip some plain in- 
sinuations of the indignation his wrongs had inspired. 
He began to treat her, on every occasion, with marked 
insult and unkindness ; and, .while he created himself 
new enemies, by the most unpopular and foolish ex- 
cesses, the empress acted a very different part, and con- 
ciliated the good-will of the public, while she attached 
to herself men of talents and courage. 

When her dissimulation and her judgment thus ren- 
dered her more powerful, the czar began seriously to 
think of divorcing her, declaring the illegitimacy of her 
son, and raising his mistress to the throne. Acquainted 
with the intentions of her husband, Catherine was more 
than doubly careful in her outward conduct, and kept 
a new lover, Orloff, so much in the back ground, that 
her most intimate friends suspected not the attachment, 
though he was one of the conspirators against Peter, 
whose do wnfal alone, the indignities he had heaped 
upon the empress, and the measures he. was now pur- 
suing, it was plain, could ensure her safety. 

The young princess Dashkoff, sister of the emperor's 
mistress, was one oFthe fast friends of Catherine. Boli 
and intriguing, the latter contrived to make her 
talents useful. She herself kept in the back ground, 
tfhile her several agents were busy in detaching from 
Peter any friend who yet remained, or any who had 
power to injure him, and might be influenced by vena4 
or ambitious motives. Her arrest was to take place ia 
two days ; her adherents were many, and the plot lia- 
ble to be betrayed by some one, in which she had every 
thing to fear. Some of them wished her to be recent 
only during the minority of her son, who was to be de- 
clared emperor; but Catherine persisted in claiming 
the imperial dignity ; and July 9th, 1762, entered 
Petersburgh with Orloff and a few soldiers, the number 
of which were soon augmented, by whom she was 
proclaimed Czarina, amidst the acclamations of all 
the people, and the imperial crown was placed 

L 2 upoa 


upon her head, by the bishop of Xovogorod. Every- 
thing was favourable; no biuoci had been shed, and 
the czar was leaving his country house lor Pttertiioii', 
y.iiewe he found the empress had esi aped, beiore lit was 
Informed of the insurrection, Appahtd and irresolute, 
he neglected the advice of the brave count jVluna'h for 
that of his mistress, his courfiers, and his own imbe- 
cility, and returned to Oranienbauiu, VUKU boldness 
only could have saved him. 

He wrote to the empress, who was on her march to- 
wards him ; she returned no answer, but proceeded for- 
ward. Neglecting any measures of security, he ordered 
file place to be dismantled, as a sign of submission, ' 
nd wrote a second letter, in the most humiliating 
terms, offering 'to resign the empire, if she would per- 
mit him to retire to Holstein ; no answer was returned; 
but he w T as counselled to show his submission by pro- 
ceeding forward to meet the empress. He went ; and, 
alter suffering a thousand indignities from her adherents, 
he wrote a formal renunciation of the empire, declaring 
his own incapacity, flattering himself with the idea that 
Fhe would permit him to retire to Holstein, though during 
his captivity he was denied the solace of a violin and 
a few books. When, at the end of a week, it was 
thought unsafe, from the movements of compassion and 
remorse among the soldiers, to spare him longer, Alexis 
Orloff, brother of the favourite, with another officer, 
went to dine with the czar, to whom they contrived to 
administer a glass of poison; and, on his discovery of 
it and rejection of a second, pushed away a servant who 
had come into the room to succour him, and, after some 
struggles, straugied the unfortunate prince. 

When Catherine was publicly informed of his death, 
she shed tears, retired, and secluded herself for several 
days. Recalling those whom Peter had banished ; 
making her arrangements with foreign powers, and 
settling the internal affairs of the empire, formed her 
first cares. She had many mortifications to endure, 



in the coldness in which sh was received at Mos-. 
cow, and in the cabals of the priests, whom sne had 
promised but neglected to reinstate in the privileges 
Peter had taken from them, and who began to prepare 
the minds of the people for a counter revolution. But 
prompt severity and decisive measures, uninterrupted 
by the scruples of pity or gratitude, not only put an 
end to these movements, but rid her of some trouble- 
some friends, whose services she wished to have been 
forgotten. Amongst others, of the princess DashkofT, 
who was banished by her to Moscow, but afterwards 
recalled, and the memory of whose courage and actions 
she wished to obliterate. 

She abolished the secret court, instituted by Peter I. 
to inquire into nnd punish religious and state crimes : 
she strove to sooth the people by proclamations, in 
which her maternal interest was much dwelt upon ; and 
the wise measures she took to increase trade and civiliza- 
tion are entitled to the highest praise. She annihilated 
torture, as a means of forcing the confession of crimes, 
and made the laws more mild and equitable. The ge- 
neral toleration she allowed in point of religion, and 
the invitation she gave to the professors of the liberal 
arts, and the industrious agriculturist, induced thou- 
sands to come from foreign countries and settle upon 
the unpeopled districts of her empire, while the inge- 
nious beautified her capital by their works, and gave 
birth to taste amidst a rude and uncultivated people. 

Yet Catherine was subject to much disquietude, and 
obliged to temporize with many, who gave her very 
different advice. The turbulence of Gregory OrlorT, her 
favourite, disgusted all men of refinement, and filled 
the court with people like himself boisterous and un- 
learned. He was induced even to aspire to be her hus- 
band ; but whether the intentions of the empress were 
not really in favour of the project, or that the murmurs 
of the people obliged her to abandon it, it was soon laid 
aside. But a conspiracy had been set on foot, which 
" J> .> was 


was sanctioned by the most considerable names, and big 
with the greatest danger. ' In this dilemma ; not know- 
ing the reality -of her suspicions, she thought to obtain 
from the princess Dashkoff more certain intelligence, 
and wrote to her a most flattering letter, which was 
answered : 


" I have heard nothing : but, if I had, I should be- 
ware of what I spoke. What is it that you require of 
me ? that I should expire upon a scaffold ? I am ready 
to ascend it." 

The empress continued to be harrassed by plots, 
which she could not stifle, and which yet had not suf- 
ficient strength or address to effect their purposes. She 
employed her mind much in objects of public utility at 
home, but despotically forced her former lover l j oniatof- 
sky, upon the Poles, as their king. 

In July, 1764, the unfortunate prince Ivan, who had 
once been . intended by her husband for his successor, in 
consequence of an order signed by the empress, that the 
officers on guard were to put him to death, if any attempt 
was made for his liberation, fell a sacrifice to the zeal of 
a man who wished to raise him to the throne, and was 
ignorant of the orders given. 

In magnificent shews which amused the court, in the 
flatteries of the learned all over Europe, to whom she 
was a liberal patroness, Catherine sought perhaps as well 
to still the voice of conscience in her heart, as to give a 
more favourable cast to her character, blackened by the 
gradual disclosure of the crimes of a revolution which 
placed her upon the throne, and which even those who 
had taken a most active part in those scenes, discovered 
in the disgust her neglect of their former services created. 

Yet the excellent code of laws, drawn up by the em- 
press for her empire, obtained her the title of Mother of 
her Country, and gained her the respect of surrounding 
nations ; and by her liberal patronage of literature and 



talents, bvthe benevolent institutions she formed, by her 
endeavours to ameliorate the condition of the peasants, 
and for the general improvement and instruction of her 
country, she deserves the highest praise but she is said 
in her care for the borders to have neglected the interior 
of her dominions , and seized with the frenzy of conquest, 
was always engaged in warlike preparations or in war, 
though possessing a territory larger than that of ancient 
Rome. Great parts are often led by a desire of fame into 
measures which defeat their own end a great mind alone 
rises superior to this delusion, and feels its own award 
superior to the voice of the multitude. Yet Catherine 
stands forth amidst the great conquerors, legislators, and 
politicians, with equal pretensions to the highest. Her 
resolution, her intrepidity, her presence of mind; her sa- 
gacity, penetration, and address, are fully allowed and 
we may sometimes add her magnanimity and benevo- 

But her ambition was unsatisfied ; she engendered 
the tyrannical and unprincipled design of dismembering 
the provinces of Poland; sought, and frequently with 
success, through the medium of intrigue, to dictate to 
the cabinets of Stockholm and Copenhagen. But her 
principal attempts were on the falling empire of the 
Turks. By the war of 17<>8, she acquired the provinces 
of Catherinienslaw, the site of Cherson, and the naviga- 
tion of the Black Sea- By an uninterrupted series of 
arbitrary proceedings and cabal, she subjugated the in- 
estimable and beautiful peninsula of Crim Tartarys ac- 
quired various -districts in the province of Schiraz, and 
rendered the princes of Georgia her feudatories and 
vassals. Nothing in the north or east could resist. 
her despotic sway ; and, to complete her designs, she 
was enabled to gain over the restless and capricious mind 
of the Emperor Joseph to her side, and negociate with 
him a sort of indefinite project for the conquest of Con- 
stantinople, and the partition of Greece. 

Perhaps Catherine found her safety alone in war the 
i- 4 factious 


factious spirits were thus employed, and the splendour 
of victories'threw a lustre upon her character which en- 
deared her to her subjects, and made them forget the 
darker shades. 

To describe her numberless institutions for the benefit 
of her subjects, IK* wise regulations, or the internal 
commotions which she overcame, would exceed the li- 
mits of this work. To trace her list of favourites, or 
lovers, would be a useless task. As an author, Ca- 
therine has some claims : she w r rote three works for the 
entertainment and instruction of her grand- children, co- 
medies for the amusement of the court, and different 
memorials, which, at the most eventful periods of her 
hfe, were necessary to explain, to move, and conciliate 
the people. Her letters also to Voltaire are interesting 
and lively. 

She was of the middle size, yet by the habit of 
holding her head high, appeared tall, and had a perfect 
command of countenance; her eyes were clear and large, 
her complexion fair, her hair and eye-brows auburn, and 
her hands and arms beautiful. She, in general, dressed 
in green, which is the national colour of Russia. She 
was fond of magnificence, yet familiar and lively in 
her manner; fond of pleasure, yet vast in her pro- 
jects, and unbounded in her ambition. It was her wish 
to leave two vast empires in her family, and the destined 
the thrones of Petersburgh and Constantinople to her two 
grandsons, Alexander and Constantine. 
D A coldness and jealousy, for some time before her 
death, which happened suddenly on the 4th of Novem- 
ber, 17 96, in the o7th year of " her age, had subsisted 
between her and the grand duke, Paul; but her affec- 
tion for his children was excessive, and they lamented 
her, as did all that had been accustomed to her society, 
with unfeigned regret. 

The distraction of Orloff, and the gloom which 
imbittered the last days of Potemkin, the two of 
her favourites, who became afterwards her first 



ministers and generals, must have occasioned some 
pangs to the mind of Catherine, though that heart was 
too closely veiled to let its secret emotions be visible. 
The former, seized with madness and remorse, fancied 
he continually saw the murdered Peter, in whose mis- 
fortunes he had so great a share, and shocked the ears 
of Catherine with bitter reproaches. It has been 
doubted, whether she was privy to the murder of 
her husband, or ever acquainted with the circum- 
stances. Be it as it will, her mind always kept its ba- 
lance. The most extravagant projects did not bewilder 
her imaginations ; nor the greatest difficulties disarrange 
her ideas. 

Life of Catherine II. in 3 vols. 8vo. &'c. 



A BEAUTIFUL and ingenious French lady ; wrote a 
work, entitled, .Les Souvenir, which relate many inter- 
esting anecdotes of the reign of Lewis XIV. and clear 
up many historical doubts. 

F c. 

CENTLIVRE, (SUSANNAH) Daughter of Mr. 
Freeman, of Holbeach, in Lincolnshire. Bern 1G6"7 
died 1723 ; aged 5(5; 

A CELEBRATED comic writer ; was, of a respectable 
family, who suffered much for their attachment to 
whig principles. Her education was entirely of her 
own acquiring, with the assistance of ,a neighbouring 
French gentleman, who undertook to instruct her in the 
^ 5 French 


French language, wherein she made such a rapid pro- 
gress, that, before she was twelve years of age, she 
could read Moliere with vivacity and interest. After 
the death of her father, the ill-usage of her step-mother 
induced her to leave home to seek her fortune, on foot 
and unprotected. Her beauty struck a young man of 
the university of Cambridge, who persuaded her to 
become his mistress, and to reside there with him in the 
disguise of a boy. Afterwards she came to London, 
and married, in her sixteenth year, a nephew of Sir 
Stephen Fox ; and, afterwards, a young officer, named 
Carrol, who was likewise shortly after killed in a 

On his death she became an author for subsistence, 
and wrote fifteen plays, three farces, and several little 
poems ; for some of which she is said to have received 
considerable complimentary presents from very great 
personages. Her most popular plays are, The Busy 
Body ; The Wonder, a Woman keeps a Secret ; and 
A Bold Stroke for a Wife. Their character is bustle, 
spirit, and plot. She afterwards went upon the stage, 
and at Windsor, in 1706, when she was acting the part 
of Alexander the Great, Mr. Joseph Centlivre, who 
had been one of Queen Anne's cooks, fell in love with 
and married her. She unfortunately wrote a song 
against -Popa's Homer, before he published it, which 
made him give her a place in the Dunciad. She corres- 
ponded, for many years, with several men of wit, par- 
ticularly with Steele, Rowe, Budgell, Sewell, Amherst, 

Ne\v Biographical Dictionary, &c. 

CEO, orCIEL (YOLANDA DE) a Nun of Lisbon. 

Born 1603, died 1693, 

FAMOUS for her poetical talents and her eloquence. 
She w^rte some religious theatrical pieces ; and all her 
works fill two vols. in folio. 



CERDA, (BERNARDA DE LA) a Portugueze Lady, 
who flourished at the Beginning of the seventeenth 
Century , and was celebrated by all the Spanish and 
Portugueze Academies. 

SHE spoke many languages with facility, understood 
rhetoric, philosophy, and mathematics, and wrote well 
in prose and verse. Her present works consist of a 
Poetical Selection, 'a Volume of Comedies, $c. 

F. C. 

CERETI, or CERETA, (LAURA) a Professor of 
Philosophy ; born at Brescia, in Italy, 1469, 

OF great reputation , has left a collection of letters, 
which are much admired. 

F. C. 

CERVATON, (ANNE) a Spanish Lady, Daughter of 
Germana de Foix, Mistress of Ferdinand V, King of 
Spain ; 

To the most exquisite beauty, added a fine and cul- 
tivated taste. She spoke her own language with ele- 
gance and correctness, and, at the same time, wrote 
and spoke Latin with the same facility. Some of her 
letters in this language are still extant. 


CHANDLER, ("MARY) ; born at Malmsbury, in Wilt- 
shire, in the Year 1GS7 ; died 1745. 

HER father was a dissenting Minister at Bath, whose 
circumstances made it necessary that she should be 
brought up to some business, and accordingly she be- 
came a milliner : yet he took special care to train her up 
in the principles of religion and virtue ; a care that was 



attended with the utmost success, as is perceivable in 
her writings. 

Mrs. Chandler, from her childhood, had a turn for 
poetry, often entertained her companions with riddles 
in verse, and was at that time extremely fond of Her- 
bert's poems. In her riper years she applied herself to 
the study of the best modern poets; and, as far as trans- 
lation could assist her, of the ancient ; but liked Ho- 
race better than either Virgil or Homer, because he dealt 
less in fable, and treated of subjects that lay within the 
sphere of nature and common life. Her poem upon the 
Bath had the full approbation of the public ; and she 
was complimented upon it by Mr. Pope, with whom 
she was acquainted. She had the misfortune to be de- 
formed, which determined her to live single ; though she 
had a sweet countenance, and was solicited to marry. 
She died after about two days illness, in the 58th year 
of her age. 

..; Female Worthies, &c. 

CHxVPONE, (MRS.) died at Hadley, in Middlesex, 
1801, aged 7o. 

THE account of this lady given by her friend, 
Mrs. Barbauld, contains little historical information. 
Her most popular work was Letters on the Improve- 
ment of the Mind, addressed to a young lady ; pub- 
lished in 1779, which received a warm andjust eulogium, 
as the most unexceptionable treatise that can be put 
into the hands of youth : as excellent in its moral prin- 
ciples ; wise in the rules of conduct laid down ; and, in 
the style, equal to our best writers. 

Mrs. Chapone's maiden name was Mulso, that of a 
respectable family in Northamptonshire. She was left 
a widow early, in narrow circumstances. Her manners- 
were elegant, and she had a fine voice and taste for mu- 
sic. The story of Fidelia, in the Adventurer , was writ- 


ten by her, and a poem, prefixed, to her friend, Mrs. 
Carter's Translation ofEpictetns. She published also a 
volume of Miscellanies, consisting of poems and plays. 
The loss of her niece, to whom the Letters on the Mind 
were addressed, and of a dear brother, injured the health 
of Mrs. Chapone, and made her, some time before her 
death, withdraw herself from society. 

CHARGE, (Phillis de la Tour du Pin-Gouverne, 
Mademoiselle de la) a French Heroine of the seventeenth 

ON the attack the duke of Savoy made upon Dau- 
phiny, in 1692, this courageous lady armed the villa- 
ges in her department, put herself at their head, and, 
by little skirmishes, harrassed the enemy in the moun- 
tains, and contributed very much to make them aban- 
don the country. In the mean time, her mother ex- 
horted the people in the plains to remain faithful to 
their duty ; and her sister caused the cables of the boats 
to be cut, so that they could be of no use to them. 
Lewis XIV. gave Mademoiselle de la Charce a pension, 
and permitted her to place her sword and armour in 
the treasury of St. Denis. 

F. C. 


A VERY learned Grecian lady, who, besides what 
she wrote in prose, is said to have composed many 
things in verse, and particularly a poem entitled Ow- 
mata. She is mentioned by Aristophanes. 




Marchioness duj; bom 170G, died 1749, aged 43. 

FROM her early youth read the best authors, without 
the medium of a translation ; Tasso, IVJilton,' and Vir- 
gil were alike familiar to her ; and her ear was parti- 
cularly sensible to the melody of verse. She was en- 
dowed with great eloquence, but not of that sort which 
consists only in displaying wit or acquirements ; preci- 
sion was the character of hers. She would rather have 
written with the solidity of Pascal than with the 
charms of Seyigne. She loved abstract sciences, stu- 
died mathematics deeply, and published an expla- 
nation of the philosophy of Leibnitz, under the title of 
Institutions de Physique, in 8vo. addressed to her son. 
The preliminary discourse to which is said to be a model 
of reason and eloquence. Afterwards she published a 
treatise on The Nature of Fire. To know common 
geometry did not satisfy her. She was so well skilled 
in the philosophy of Newton, that she translated his 
works, and enriched :hem by a commentary, in 4 vols. 
4to. its title is Principes Mathematiques de la Philosophic 
NatHreMe. This work, which cost her infinite labour, 
is supposed to have hastened her death. 

She was beautiful, and, according to her friend Vol- 
taire, more solicitous to conceal her knowledge than 
display it The king of Prussia, who had long desired to 
see the philosopher of Fcrney, on her death, refused to 
hear any more excuses. " I have yielded to madame 
Chatelet, on the score of a twenty years' friendship," 
said he ; " but I also have known you a long time." 

In a dedication to her, Voltaire says ; "'one reason 
why we should esteem women of letters is,, because 
they study from taste and inclination only ; while, with 
us, it must be acknowledged, it is often from vnnity 
or interest. It is J;rue, that a woman who should 
neglect the duties of her iamily and station, to cultivate 



the sciences, would be blameable, let her progress be 
what it would : but the same spirit which leads to the 
knowledge of truth, will instruct us in the performance 
of duty." 

F. C. 

CHELONIS, Daughter of Leonidas, and Wife ofCle- 
ombrotus, both Kings ofLacedemon* 

BY means of a faction, the former was oblig- 
ed to take sanctuary in a temple, and the latter 
raised to the throne. Chelonis, far from sharing in her 
husband's good fortune, retired into the same temple 
with her father, and dwelt there with him in mortifi- 
cation and penance. Afterwards he was permitted to 
retire to Tagea, whither Chelonis also accompanied him. 
Cleombrotus, in his turn, being dethroned, Leonidas 
was restored to his kingdom ; but Chelonis, no longer 
sensible of her husband's fault, determined to share his 
misfortune with him, though she had no share in his 

Leonidas, with an armed force, went to the place 
where his son-in-law was sheltered, and, in the most 
passionate manner, upbraided him with the injuries he 
had received. Cleqmbrotus had nothing to answer ; 
but his wife spoke for him, protesting ai the same time', 
she would die with him, if her prayers and tears 
proved unsuccessful to save his life, md obtain leave 
for him to retire where he chose. Tpon this, Leo- 
nidas granted him his life and liberty, rid most* affec- 
tionately besought her to continue wi dim ; but, put- 
ting one of her children into h-r husband's arms, whilst 
she held the other, she went to pray stt the altar, and 
immediately after, accompanied hei uusband to the 
place of his banishment. 

Female Worthies. 



CHEMIN, (CATHERINE DU) Wife of the celebrated 
Sculptor, Girardon, who consecrated a Jine Mausoleum 
to her Memory. She was a most excellent Flower 
Painter. Died 1698. 

1648, died 1711, aged 63 , distinguished herself greatly 
by her Application to Music, Painting, and Poetry ; 

DAUGHTER of Henry Cheron, a painter, native of 
Meaux, and educated in the protestant religion ; but, 
became, some years afterwards, a catholic. Le Brun, 
hrl676, invited her to the meetings of the Royal Aca- 
demy of Painting and Sculpture. She understood La- 
tin, Italian, and Spanish ; played on several instru- 
ments, and had a fine voice. Her portraits, amongst 
which are several crowned heads, were always painted 
in an allegorical and ingenious manner. 

Her chief historical pieces are, a Flight into Egypt ; 
Cassandra interrogating a Familiar on the Fate of Troy ; 
and Jesus in a Sepulchre. The only portrait ever taken 
of Madame des Houlieres was done by her. 

None surpassed her in the variety of her accomplish- 
ments and talents. Her poetry has ease, gaiety and ima- 
gination. And, besides several smaller pieces, some ori- 
ginal, some translations, after studying Hebrew, that 
she might better understand the Psalms anil Canticles, 
she published translations of them in French verse. 

She did' not alone excel in portraits, but understood 
figures, and her groups are much admired by con- 
noisseurs. She is said to have been able to join cheer- 
fully in any conversation without the least interruption 
to her pencil. She was respected and admired by all 
lovers of literature. The emperor Joseph offered her a 
considerable pension if she wouu) remove to Vienna ; 
and, on her declining it, sent her models of his face and 



those of all the imperial family. She had a pension of 
500 livresfrom Lewis XIV. At theage of 60 she married 
le Hay, engineer to the king, an old friend, merely to 
raise liis fortune. She was exceedingly pious and ami- 

Memoirs of French Ladies, Father Feejoo, &c. 

CHRISTINA DE PISA, ' lived in France, at tht 

Court of Charles VI. 

HER works constituted a considerable part of the old 
French literature ; she was particularly acquainted with 
the earl of Salisbury, who was himself a poet. 

CHRISTINA, (Queen of Sweden} Daughter of the 
great Gustavus Adolphus. Born 1626, died 1689; 
aged 54. 

HER father took great pleasure in carrying her about 
with him ; and observing her natural intrepidity, 
wished to make her a soldier, but died too soon ; and 
Christina laments in her memoirs, that she was not 
permitted to learn the art of war under so great a mas- 
ter ; she regretted also, during her whole life, thcit she 
never marched at the head of an army, or so much as 
saw a battle. 

The tears which she shed, when he set out on his Ger- 
man expedition, were regarded as a bad omen ; and she 
betrayed the hero himself into tears,, by an act of child- 
ish simplicity. Taking leave of him, by a little compli- 
ment which she had learned by heart ; ^she repeated it 
when Gustavus, being abstracted in thought, did not 
hear ; but, not content with having said her le=-?on, she 
pulled him by his sleeve to exc;te attention, and began 
to say her little speech again. At this, the father 
was affected, caught her in his arms, and, after pres- 


sing her to his breast for some minutes, gave her to 
an attendant without speaking. 

The states of Sweden being assembled, after his 
death, the marshal of the diet proposed the crown- 
ing Christina, by \irtue of a decree which had de- 
clared the daughters of the posterity oY Charles IX. 
the father of Gustavus, capable of succeeding to the 
throne. She was immediately proclaimed queen ; and, 
from this time, shewed much pleasure in appearing in 
lier regal ^capacity, though only six years old. 

The mind of Christina could never forget the war- 
like and masculine scenes sjie had, in her infancy, been 
accustomed to, and accordingly had no taste for the 
employments and conversation of women. She was, on 
the contrary, fond of violent exercises, and such amuse- 
ments as consist in feats of strength and activity ; she 
had both ability and taste for abstracted speculations, 
and amused herself with languages and the. sciences, 
particularly that of legislature and government. 

While she was thus improving her infancy, by study- 
ing the arts of peace, her generals sustained the glory 
of the Swedish arms in the thirty years war. Attain- 
ing her eighteenth year, in 1644, she took the reins of 
government in her own hands, and was in every re- 
spect able 1 to manage them. As the sovereign of a 
powerful kingdom, it is not strange that she was 
sought in marriage by almost all the princes of Europe. 
Amongst others, Charles Gustavus, duke of Deux 
Fonts, her first cousin, having served with great re- 
putation in her armies, and assiduously cultivated her 
regard, ventured to pay his addresses, and propose 
marriage ; and though she was averse to dividing her 
authority, she condescended to promise him, that if she 
ever consented to lose her liberty she would give him the 
preference. She had already determined, by some 
means, to raise him to the throne, and seems to have 
acted generously, by striving to inspire the people with 
an high opinion of his character. 



Political interests, .difference of religion, and con- 
trariety of manners, furnished Christina with pretences 
for rejecting all her suitors.; but her true motives were 
the love of' independence, and an aversion she had con- 
ceived to marriage, even in her infancy. " Do not 
force me to many," she said to the states ; *' for if I 
should have a son, it is not more probable that he should 
be an Augustus than a Nero." 

As she was at the chapel of the castle at Stockholm, 
assisting at divine service with the principal lords of 
her court, a man, who was disordered in his mind, came 
to the place, with a design to assassinate her. This 
man, who was preceptor of the college, and in the full 
vigour of his age, chose, for the execution of his 
design, the moment when the assembly was performing 
what, in f the Swedish church, is called an act of re- 
collection, a silent and separate act of devotion of each 
individual kneeling, .and hiding the x face with the 
hand. Taking this opportunity, he rushed through the 
crowd, and mounted a balustrade, within which the 
queen was upon her knees. The baron Brahi, chief 
justice of Sweden, saw him, and cried out; and the 
guards crossed their partizans, to prevent his coming 
farther ; but he struck them furiously on one side, 
leaped over the barrier, and, being close to the queen, 
made a blow at her with a knife that he had concealed, 
without a sheath, in his sleeve. She avoided the 
blow, and pushed the captain of her guards, who in- 
stantly threw himself upon the assassin, and seized him 
by the hair : all this happened in a moment of time. 
The man was known to be mad ; they therefore con- 
tented themselves with locking him up"; and the queen 
returned to her devotion, without the least emotion that 
could be perceived by the people, who were much more 
frightened than herself. 

No less ambitious of fame tha\i her father, though 
neither in the camp nor cabinet, she immortalized 
her short reign by her attachment to the arts and learned 



men. Anxious for literary repose, she promoted the 
peace of Westphalia, in opposition to the wishes of 
Oxenstiern, whose father having been justly honoured 
with the confidence of Gustavus, had governed Sweden 
with an authority almost absolute during Christina's 
minority ; who Foon began to be weary of his yoke* 
The peace, however, so much desired and so neces- 
sary, was at last concluded in 1648. The success of 
the Swedish arms rendered her the arbitress of this 
treaty, at least as to the affairs of Sweden, to which it 
confirmed the possession of many important countries. 

No public event of importance took place during the 
remainder of her reign, for there were neither wars abroad 
nor troubles at home. This quiet might be the effect of 
chance, but it might also be that of a good administra- 
tion. The great reputation of the queen, and the love her 
people had for her, ought to incline us to the latter de- 

The peace had lightened the cares of government, but 
they were still too weighty for her. " I think 1 see the 
devil 1" said she, " when my secretary enters with his 
dispatches." The Swedes, among whom refinement had 
made little progress, but whose martial spirit was now 
at its height, could not bear to see the daughter of the 
great Gustavus devote her time and talents solely to the 
study of dead languages ; to the dispute about vortexes, 
innate ideas, and other unavailing speculations ; to a, 
perhaps affected, taste for medals, statues, pictures, 
and public spectacles, in contempt of the noble cares of 
royalty ; and were yet more displeased to find the re- 
sources of the kingdom exhausted, in what, they consi- 
dered, inglorious pursuits and childish amusements. An 
universal discontent arose, and Christina was again 
pressed to marry. The disgust occasioned by this im- 
portunity, first suggested to her the idea of quitting the 
throne. She accordingly signified her intention of re- 
signing, in a letter, to Charles Gustavus, and of sur- 
rendering her crown in full senate, 




That prince, during his absence in Germany, had 
permission to correspond with the qut'en, and used it 
to promote his own interest in her affections. Archken- 
hollz relates, that he declared in one of his letters, 
that ii her majesty persisted in her refusal, he was de- 
termined to decline the honours she proposed of nomi- 
nating him her successor, and for ever banish him- 
self from Sweden. This, however, seems to be only the 
Jiuuruage of gallantry. 

Christina had drawn to her court all the distinguished 
characters of her time; Grotius, Paschal, Bochart, Des- 
cartes, Cassendi, Saumaise, Naude, Vossius, Heinsius, 
Meiborn, Scudery, Menage, Lucas, Holstenius, Lam- 
becius, Bayle, Filicara, and many others : almost 
all have celebrated her, either in poems, letters, or 
literary productions of some other kind, the~greater part 
of which are now forgotten. 

Christina, however, may be justly reproached with 
want of taste, in not properly assigning the rank of all 
these persons, whose merits, though acknowledged, 
were, unequal. She had lately affected a contempt 
of pomp, power, grandeur, and all the magnificence 
and splendour of a court. To be thought wise and 
learned was her chief passion ; though she forfeited her 
title to superior wisdom, by counterfeiting inclinations 
which she did not possess, and laying a constant re- 
straint on her natural sentiments. Poets, painters, and 
philosophers were her greatest favourites. She corres- 
ponded with the most celebrated scholars in Europe, 
and purchased the paintings of Titian at an extravagant 
price, which were then suffered to be clipped, to fit the 
pannels of her gallery. In a word, vanity was the 
foible of Christina ; it had already been gratified with 
respect to power and grandeur ; and now it flowed into 
a new channel. She aspired at being the sovereign of 
the learned, and dictating in the lyceum as she had done 
in the senate. 

When she signified her intention of resigning, 



Charles Gustavus, trained in dissimulation, and fearing 
she had laid a snare for him, rejected the proposal. 
The strongest arguments and reasonings were employed 
for several months to divert her from it; but whether 
she imagined she had gone too far to recede with a good 
grace, or that her wishes continued the same, she 
continued firm in her resolution, till the principal mem- 
bers of the state, headed by the chancellor, waited 
upon her with the utmost solemnity; and, as a last 
effort, supplicated in so pathetic a manner, that she 
consented to postpone her design, on condition that 
she should never be pressed to marry. 
An unfortunate accident happened a few days after 
she had given her promise, which nearly occasioned her 
premature death. Having given orders fpr some ships 
of war to be built at Stockholm, she went to see them, 
and as she was going aboard, across a narrow plank, 
with admiral Fleming, his foot slipping, he fell, and 
drew her with him into the sea, which, in that place, 
was near 90 feet deep. The first equerry instantly 
threw himself into the water, laid hold of the queen's 
robe, and got her on shore. During this accident, her 
recollection and presence of mind were such, that the 
moment her lips were above water, she cried out, 
" Take care of the admiral!' 

Until the year 1054, nothing memorable occurred in 
Sweden. In that year Christina finally resigned her 
crown, finding it impossible to reconcile her literary pur- 
suits, or, more properly, her love of ease and romantic 
turn of mind, with the duties of her station. Her in- 
tention was spread over the kingdom instantaneously ; 
and this extraordinary resolution, which greatly exalted 
her character with the Swedes, affected them like a sud- 
den explosion of thunder. All were struck dumb with 
her firmness ; no one attempting to dissuade her from a 
purpose upon which they perceived her determined. 
The senate assembled at Upsal, heard Christina declare 
her design with silent astonishment; they only ven- 


tured to reply, that they were in expectation her pro- 
mises to continue the government would have been of 
longer duration. 

While they were deliberating upon the measures 
which would be necessary in consequence of her resigna- 
tion, Christina dispatched a messenger to the hereditary 
prince, to treat with him on the revenues to be assign- 
ed for the support of her dignity, alter her abdication. 
It was proposed that two hundred thousand rix dollars 
should be annually paid her, in certain instalments, 
and that many provinces of the kingdom should be ap- 
propriated, so as to render this'revenue certain and un- 
alienable. All being at iengtli adjusted to mutual sa- 
tisfaction, the queen turned he*r eyes to the security of 
the succession, in case the hereditary prince died with- 
out issue; but finding the people opposed her design, 
to settle it in the family of the count de Tot, who was 
of the ro)^al blood, and a favourite of hers, she pru- 
dently declined it ; and assembled the states at Upsal, 
where, in a set speech, she recapitulated the transac- 
tions of her reign, and the instances of her care and af- 
fection for the people ; she specified all the measures 
she had taken to prevent any inconveniences that might 
result from her determination, and concluded with 
fixing upon the 16th of June, as the day on which she 
proposed resigning the crown and sovereignty to her 

When the time arrived, which she expected with as 
much eagerness as other princesses have wished for their 
coronation, she was astonished that the states proposed 
to fix her. residence in Sweden, as it was her design to 
live where she pleased, in countries where the sciences 
had made greater progress. This difficulty however 
she removed, by pretending her health made a short 
residence at Spa necessary. She then divested herself 
of all authority, resigning the crown to Gustavus, and 
dismissed the assembly with a pathetic oration, which 
drew tears from all the hearers. 



Such was the extraordinary manner in which Chris- 
tina resigned her crown, at the age of twenty- seven, 
after a reign equally glorious to herself and to Sweden, 
whose reputation was never at so high a pitch as under 
her government. In other countries the arts languished 
during tedious bloody wars ; under Christina they 
flourished by the force of her own example. 

No prince, after a long imprisonment, ever shewed 
so much joy upon being restored to his kingdom, as 
Christina did in quitting hers. When she came to a 
little brook, which separates Sweden from Denmark, she 
got out of her carriage, and, leaping to the other side, 
cried out in a transport of joy ; " At last I am free, 
and out of Sweden, whither I hope I shall never return." 
. She took with her whatever she had collected as cu- 
rious and valuable, leaving her palace bare. After die- 
missing her women, she laid by the habit of her sex ; 
" I would become a man," said she ; " yet I do not 
love men because they are men, but because they are not 
women." She made some stay at Brussels, where 
she saw the great Conde v They were very friendly at 
first, but afterwards disputed on an idle point of cere- 
mony, on which they ought neither of them to have 
contended . 

Christina, besides abdicating her crown, abjured her 
religion, and embraced that of the Romish church. 
The catholics Considered this as a great triumph, and 
the protestants were not a little mortified at the defec- 
tion of so celebrated a woman ; but both without rea- 
son ; for the queen of Sweden meant only to conform in 
appearance to the tenets of the people -among whom 
she intended to live, in order, more agreeably, to enjoy 
the pleasures of social intercourse. Of this her letters 
afford sufficient proof. 

But, like most sovereigns who have quitted a throne, 
in order to escape from the cares of royalty, she found 
herself no less uneasy in private life. She soon discovered 
that a queen without power was a very insignificant 



character, and is supposed to have repented ofher resig- 
nation. But, however that may be, it is certain she 
became tired of her situation, and made two journies 
from Italy into France, where she was received with great 
respect by the learned, whom she had pensioned and 
flattered ; but with little attention by the polite, espe- 
cially ofher own sex, as her masculine airs and conver- 
sation kept women of delicacy at a distance. 

Her capricious violence and arbitrary temper, ill agree- 
ing with the resigner of a crown, was continually shew- 
ing itself, not only by her intriguing afterwards for that 
of Poland, but, in one instance, in a manner so dread- 
ful, that she was obliged to leave France on account of 
the odium it threw on her character. The affair 
alluded to is that of Monaldeschi, her favourite, whom 
she ordered to be assassinated, for an act of unfaithful- 
ness as a lover, and of treachery as a subject, though 
she was no longer a queen, in the great gallery of Fon- 
tainbleau, and almost in her own presence. 

Christina, from her youth, had been taught to consi- 
der .herself as a prodigy, and thought that events and 
their agents ought to bow before her. Of this the ex- 
pressions constantly used in her letters are a proof, 
with respect to those with whom she was displeased,; 
for she scarce ever signified her displeasure without 
threatening the life of the offender. 

She went to Rome, after this to Sweden (her appoint- 
ments being very ill paid) where she was not very well 
received ; from Sweden to Hamburgh, where she con- 
tinued a year, and then again to Rome; from Rome 
she returned to Hamburgh ; and, on the death of 
Charles Gustavus, in 1660, returned to Sweden, it is 
said, with an intent to resume the government ; but 
this could not be admitted on account of her change of 
religion, upon which she went back to Hamburgh, and 
from thence again to Rome. She intended another 
journey to Sweden ; but it did not take place, any mere 
than an expedition to England, where Cromwell did 

M not 


not seem well disposed to receive her; and, after many 
wanderings and many purposes of 'wanderings more, at 
last died at Rome. 

Fond of business, and of acting an important part in 
every event, she was always solicitous to enter into the 
intrigue? of a court, or to mediate between its factions ; 
and by this means, as well as by exacting the Reference 
due to a queen when she was so no longer, spent her time 
in a manner unworthy of her former character. 

Modern Hist. Modern Europe; M Laconib. 

CHUDLEIGH, (LADY MARY) Daughter of Sir 
Richard Lee, of Winslade, Devonshire.. Born 1656, 
died 1710, 

, WAS taught no other language but her mother 
tongue, though her love of books and great capacity, en- 
abled her to make a very considerable figure among the 
literati of her time. 

She was married to Sir George Chudleigh, of Ash ton, 
in the county of Devon, Ixtronet, by whom she had two 
children ; was as eminent for virtue as understand- 
ing ; and, though Well versed in poetry and history, 
dedicated much of her time to the study of philosophy 
and divinity, as appears from her excellent essays, 
which discover an uncommon degree of piety and know- 
ledge, and a noble contempt of common vanities. 

The works she wrote and published are, The Ladies' 
ence ; or, the Bride- woman's Counsellor answered : 
a poem. In a Dialogue between Sir John Brute and Sir 
William- Loveall \ Melissa and a Parsbn. This last 
piece has been several times published, and was occa- 
sioned by an angry sermon preached against the ladies, 
wrote also, The Song of the Three Children para- 
phrased ; and mary other poems upon various subjects, 
which are printed together, with the following title ; 
Poems on various Occasions. By the Lady Chudleigh. 



Likewise Essays on several Subjects , in Prose and Verse. 
These are upon Knowledge, Pride, Humility, Life, Death, 
Fear, Grief, Self-fove, Justice, Riches, Anger, Calumny, 
Friendship, Love, Avarice, Solitude; and are dedicated to 
her royal highness the princess Sophia, electress and 
duchess dowager of Brunswick, who, then in her 
eightieth year, honoured her with an epistle in French 
on the occasion. 

At the end of the second volume of the duke of Whar- 
ton's Poems i are five letters from Lady Chudieigh, to 
the Rev. Mr. Norris, of Bemerton, and to Corinna, i. e. 
Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas. 

She wrote several other things, which, though not 
printed, are carefully preserved in the family, viz two 
tragedies, two operas, and a masque. Some of Lotion's 
Dialogues, in verse ; Satirical Reflections on Saqualio,, 
in imitation of Lucian's Dialogues, with several small 

She had been confined to her chamber by the rheu- 
matism, a considerable time before her death, which 
happened at Ashton, in Devonshire, in the fifty-fifth 
year of her age. 

Female Worthies, &c. 


FOR several years reckoned, not only the first ac- 
tress in England, but supposed by many to excel the 
celebrated Mademoiselle Clairon, of the continent ; was 
the daughter of Mr. Arne, an upholsterer, who resided 
in King-street, Covent-garden/ and sister to the cele- 
brated Dr. Arne. 

Miss Arne was born 1715. Her education was suit- 
able to a young woman whb'had then the hopes of a 
very ample fortune : she made great proficiency in what- 
ever was taught her, having a most remarkably lively 
genius, and a very tenacious memory ; but dancing and 
music more particularly engaged her attention ; and her 

JM 2 bro- 


brother's early eminence in the latter science, enabled 
him to give her such useful lessons, as soon put her 
upon a level with most of the capital singers of that pe- 
riod^ She had, however, at this time, no thoughts of 
coming upon the stage ; .but her father dying, and the 
state of his affairs turning out very different i'rom what 
was expected, she was prevailed upon to exert her mu- 
sical talents in public, and introduced to Mr. Fleetwood 
in the year 1734. He engaged her, as a singer, at 
Drury-lane theatre the ensuing season, at a salary of a 
hundred pounds, and a benefit. 

Mr. Theophilus Gibber, about this time, lost his first 
wife, and Miss Arne's beauty, accomplishments, and 
unblemished reputation, induced him to pay his addresses 
to her in form. Mr. Colley Gibber was at first averse 
to the match, thinking his -son entitled to a woman of 
fashion and fortune. The match nevertheless, unfortu- 
nately for Miss A rue, took place, and they were mar- 
ried in 1735. Great cordiality subsisted between them 
for some time ; and Colley Gibber, who by the amiable 
department of his daughter-in-law, and seeming re- 
formation of his "son, was induced to take the young 
couple into favpur, undertook to teach Mrs. Gibber the 
art of acting, that she might obtain a better salary, (they 
were At that time very poor) and more rank upon the 
stage % 

Upon her first attempt to declaim in tragedy, as he 
informs us, he was surprised at such a variety of powers 
united. She had been two years upon Drury-lane stage 
as an actress, when her husband, by the most reiterated 
villainy introduced and encouraged a gentleman to seduce 
his wife, with whom she afterwards lived. By this 
occurrence she was estranged some years from the stage, 
returning about the year 1749. 

"She now appeared in almost every capital character in 
tragedy. Her voice was beyond description plaintive and 
musical, yet far from deficient in powers for the ex- 
pression of resentment or disdain, she possessed an 




equal command of features ; and though she latterly 
lost the bloom of health, and grew thin, yet there still 
remained so complete a symmetry and proportion in 
the different parts of her form, that it was impossible 
to view her figure and not believe her in the prime of 
youth. Her success in comedy was not equal to the 
applause she met within tragedy. 

She translated The Qracfe, a piece in two acts, from 
the French of Saintfoix, which was performed for her 
benefit in the year 1750, and received with applause. 
She was a Roman Catholic,- and died 1766, at her house 
in Scotland-yard, Whitehall; of a rupture in one of the 
coats of the stomach j her disorder having equally sur- 
prised and baffled the physicians who attended her. 

Annual Register, Biog. Diet. 

CLAUDIA RUFTNA, a nobfe British Lady, about the 
Year 100, Wife of Ax tits Rufus Pudens, a Bononian 
Philosopher, and one of the Roman Equestrian Order ; 

SAID to have been a great associate with the poet 
Martial, who, in many places, highly extols her 
for beauty, learning, and eminent virtues : of her 
poetic writings, Balaeu's mentions a book of Epigrams, 
islegy on her Husbands Death, and other verses on va- 
rious subjects ; besides which, she is said to have 
written many things in prose. 

Female Worthies. 

CLEMENT, (MARGARET) born 1508, 
NIECE to Sir Thomas More, in whose house she was 
brought up, and carefully educated with his daughter in 
the learned languages, and almost all the liberal sci- 
ences, in which she seems to have made a great progress. 
She corresponded with the celebrated Erasmus,- who 
commends her epistles for their good c eme and chaste 
Latin. Mr. Thomas More, who wrote the life of hJs 

M 3 reut 


great grandfather Sir Thomas^ makes honourable men- 
tion of x her, and styles her a learned woman. 

About the year 1531, she was married to her tutor, 
Dr. John Clements. They had one daughter, named 
Winifred, on whose education she bestowed the same 
care as was taken of her own. Mr. Anthony ,Wood 
styles her an ingenious and learned woman, and ^ays, 
she was married to Mr. William Rastall (nephew to Sir 
Thomas More) a celebrated writer, and the most emi- 
nent lawyer of his time. 

Female Worthies. 

CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt, Mistress of Marc 

Antony. Died B.C. 30; aged 39 ; , 
- DAUGHTER of Ptolemy Auletes, who, dying in the 
year 51 B.C. bequeathed his crown to his eldest son and 
daughter, ordering them to be married according to the 
usage of their family, and jointly govern the kingdom. 
They were both very young, Cleopatra the eldest., not 
being above seventeen ; and therefore he committed 
them to the tuition of the Roman senate. They could 
not agree, either to be married, or to reign together. 
Ptolemy, the brother, deprived Cleopatra of that share 
in the government left her by her father's will, and drove 
her out of the 'kingdom. She raised an army in Syria 
and Palestine, and went to war with him. 

At this juncture, Julius Caesar, in pursuit of Pom- 
pey, sailed into Egypt,' and came to Alexandria. Here 
he employed himself in hearing the controversy between 
Ptolemy and his sister Cleopatra, as an arbitrator ap- 
pointed by the will of Auletes, the power of the Romans 
being then vested in him as their dictator. The cause 
was accordingly brought to a hearing, and advocates ap- 
pointed on both sides to plead it. But Cleopatra,' know- 
ing Caesar was a great admirer of beauty, laid a plot to 
i:v,-ike him of her side : sending therefore to him, she com- 
plained, that her cause was betrayed by those who ma- 


naged it for her, and prayed that she might be permitted 
herself to plead before him. This being granted, she 
came secretly into the port of Alexandria, in a small 
skiff, in the dusk of the evening ; and, to facilitate her 
passage to Cxsar, without fear of her brother's party, 
who then commanded the place, she caused herself to be 
tied up in her bedding, and carried to his apartment 
on the back of one of her e rvants. 

Caesar was too sensible of female charms to re- 
sist those of Cleopatra. She was then about twenty, 
and one of those perfect beauties, whose every fea- 
ture has its particular charm, and was possessed 
of wit, a commanding address, and a voice singularly 
harmonious and insinuating. In short, Caesar soo?i 
after sent for Ptolemy, and pressed him to receive his 
sister again upon hsr own terms. But, perceiving 
that, instead of her judge, he was her advocate, Ptolemy 
appealed to the people, and put the whole city in an 
uproar. A war commenced, which was soon termina* 
ted by a battle, in which Cyesar overcame, and Ptolemy, 
attempting to escape over the Nile jn a boat, was 
drowned. Upon which Cje.-ar settled the kingdom upon 
Cleopatra and the surviving Ptolemy, her younger bro- 
ther, then but eleven years old, as king and queen ; 
which was in effect putting the whole power into her 
hands ; for when he became 15, and thereby capable of 
sharing the royal authority, she poisoned him, and 
reigned alone over Egypt. 

The younger sister, named Arsinoe, siding in the 
war with her brother Ptolemy, was taken prisoner by 
Caesar, and carried to, Rome, in order to grace his tri- 
umph. He afterwards dismissed her, but would not suf- 
fer her to return to Egypt, lest she should disturb Cleo- 
patra's government ; so she settled in Asia. There 
Antony found her after the battle of Philippi ; and, at 
the request of her sister, caused her to be put to death. 

It was for the sake of Cleopatra that Caesar entered 
into this war, when he had but a very inconsider- 

M 4 able 


able force with him, and staid much longer in Egypt, 
than his affairs could well admit. Suetonius reports 
that h went up the Nile with her in a magnificent gal- 
ley, and that he had gone as far as Ethiopia, if his 
army had not refused to follow him. Sh had by him a 
son, named Caesarion, and followed him to Rome, 
where he was killed in the senate-house ; at which she 
was so terrified that she fled with the utmost precipita- 
tion. Her authority and credit with Caesar, in whose 
house she lodged, had made her insolence intolerable to 
the Romans. Cicero had a conference with her in Caesar's 
gardens; where, he fells us, the haughtiness oi her be- 
haviour gave him no small offence. Afterwards she ap- 
plied to him, by her agents, in a particular suit she was 
recommending to the senate ; but he refused to inter- 
fere in her favour. 

After the battle of Philippi, Cleopatra was summoned 
by Antony to answer an accusation against her, of fa- 
vouring the interest of Cassius. She had done so, and 
was sensible that this was not very agreeable to the 
triumviri, considering what she owed to the memory of 
Julius Caesar. She depended, however, on her wit 
<ind beauty ; and, full of confidence, went to Antony, 
who waited for her at Tarsus, in Cilicia. Arriving at 
the mouth of the river Cydnus, Cleopatra embarked in 
a vessel whose stern was of gold, sails of purple silk, 
and oars of silver, while a concert of several instruments 
kept time with the motion of the vessel.' She herself 
was laid under a canopy of rich cloth of gold, dressed 
like Venus rising out of the sea. About, were 
lovely children, like Cupids, fanning her; the hand- 
somest of her women; habited like Nereids and Graces, 
were leaning negligently on the shrouds of the vessel : 
the sweets that were burning perfumed the banks of the 
river, which were covered with a vast number of peo- 
ple, so that Antony, who was mounted on a throne, to 
make a show of majesty, was left quite alone, while the 
multitude at the river, with shouts, cried out, that 


*' Venus was come to visit Bacchus for the happiness of 

By these arts, and the charms of her person, she drew 
Antony into those snares which held him enslaved 
while he lived, and were the occasion of his death. Ac- 
companying him as far as Tyre, she returned to Egypt, 
firmly persuaded he could not stay long behind her. 
Indeed he soon followed, and spent the whole win- 
ter in the enjoyment of those varied pleasures, - which 
she every day provided. 

Antony's passion for Cleopatra, and the gifts he daily 
made her of Roman provinces, which he joined to her 
dominions, raised great murmurings at Rome, which 
Octavius Caesar privately observed and encouraged ; 
partly out of desire to reign alone, and partly from re- 
sentment at the' wrongs of his sister Octavia, the wife of 
Antony ; on these accounts, he wanted to break with 
him, and renew the war. 

To pave the way to this, - when Antony returned from 
his unfortunate expedition against the Parthian s, Cae- 
sar sent Octavia to meet him. He was then at Luco- 
polis, between Tyre and Sidon, where he waited for 
Cleopatra with great impatience. At length she came; 
and almost at the same instant, ai rived a messenger of 
Octavia' s from Athens. This was heavy news for Cleo- 
patra, who had great reason to dread so powerful a rival. 
She feigned a deep melancholy ; abstained almost, en- 
tirely from food ; and finally prevailed with Antony 
to desire Octavia would return to Rome, while he at- 
tended her rival to Alexandria, where he passed the 
winter in luxury and dissipation. Here, as if to irritate 
the Romans more, he disposed of the provinces in his 
share of the empire, to Cleopatra and her children. 

Caesar now thought it time to declare war, and pre- 
parations were made on both sides. Antony and Cleo- 
patra went to Ephesus, where his lieutenants had' got 
together eigjit hundred vessels. He was advised to send 
the queen back to Egypt, till the war was ended , and 

M 5 had 


had resolved to do so ; but fearing Octavia should come to 
her husband and make a peace, she queen over-ruled the, 
project, and went on with him to Samos. Here, by way 
of prelude to so great an enterprise, they ordered, on 
the one hand, all the kings, princes, and nations, from 
Egypt to the Euxine sea, and from Armenia to Dahmi- 
tia, to send arms, provisk/ns, and soldiers to Samos ; on 
the other, all the comedians, dancers, musicians, and 
buffoons, were obliged to come- to this isle. Antony, 
however, began to suspect Cleopatra even of attempts 
against his life, and would neither eat nor drink with- 
out a taster. But, as this precaution offended her, she 
undertook to convince him that it was in vain to guard 
against her. Once, therefore, she proposed a new di- 
version, of dipping the flowers of their garlands in wine. 
Antony applauded the frolic, and began with her's, as 
.she foresaw ; but, on his offering to put the cup to his 
mouth, she prevented him, saying, " Know Cleopatra 
better, and learn by this, that all your precautions 
against her would signify nothing, if her heart were not 
interested in your preservation." It seemed that all the 
outside flowers were poisoned ; and to prove that they 
were, a criminal was immediately brought in by her 
order, who drank the wine, and expired upon the 

The battle of Actium, partly by the flight of Cle.o- 
patra, who was followed by her lover, was determined 
in favour of Caesar. Antony wa*s so hurt and .offended 
on this occasion, that he spent three days without seeing 
her; but afterwards was prevailed upon to be recon- 

In the mean time, Cleopatra made use of all sorts of 
poison upon criminals, even the biting of serpents ; and 
finding, after many experiments, that the sting- of asps 
gave the most quick and easy death, it is thought she, 
from that time, made choice of it, if her rll fortune 
should drive her to extremity. 

After they returned to Egypt, and found themselves 



abandoned by all their allies, they sent to make propo- 
sals to Caesar. Cleopatra asked the kingdom of Egypt 
for her children ; and Antony desired he might live as 
a private man at Athens, if Caesar was not willing, he 
should stay where he was. Caesar absolutely rejected 
his proposal; but sent word to Cleopatra, that he would 
refuse her nothing that was just and reasonable, if she 
would rid herself of Antony, or drive him out of her 
kingdom. She refused to act openly against the man 
she had ruined ; but betrayed and deluded him till he 
was obliged to put an end to his own life, or fall into 
the hands of Caesar. She bewailed his loss most pas- 
sionately ; but still, on Caesar's approach to Alexandria, 
was attentive to her own security. Near the temple of 
Isis she had raised a stately building, which she de- 
signed for her sepulchre. 

There she now retired ; and had all her treasure 
brought there, gold, jewels, pearls, ivory, ebony, cinna- 
mon, and other precious woods. It was filled besides 
with torches, faggots, tow, and combustibles; so that 
Caesar, who had notice of i-t, was afraid, out of despair, 
she should burn herself in it with all her riches ; and 
therefore contrived to give her hopes of good usage from 
him. He wished to secure her for his triumph, and, 
with this view, sent Proculus to employ all his art and 
address to seize her. ' Cleopatra would not let hina 
enter, but spoke to him through the chinks of the door. 
Proculus, however, stole in, with two others, at a win- 
dow. Up'bn which Cleopatra would have stabbed her- 
self; but the Roman caught hold of her arm, and be- 
sought her not to deprive his master of an opportunity 
of shewing his generosity. 

Caesar commanded her to be served in all respects like 
*a queen : but she became inconsolable for the loss of 
her liberty, and fell into a fever, which gave her hopes 
that all her sorrows would soon end with life. She had 
resolved to abstain from eating; but this beino> known, 
her children were threatened with death, if she per- 


sisted in it. On Caesar's visiting her, she attempted 
to ensnare his heart likewise, but failed as she had done 
once before with Herod, king of Judea, whose domi- 
nions she many times prayed Antony to give her. 

Having private notice, soon after, that within three 
days sj)e was to be carried to Rome, she caused herself 
to be bitten by an asp, brought to -her concealed in a 
basket of figs; and of this she died, not, however, till 
she had performed some funeral rites to the memory 
of Antony, and shed abundance of tears on his tomb. 
Caesar -was extremely troubled at her death, which de- 
prived him of the greatest ornament of his triumph. 
He ordered her a very magnificent funeral; and her 
body, as she desired, was laid by that of Antony. 

Thus ended the life of this princess, after she had 
reigned, from the death of her father, twenty-two years, 
and lived thirty-nine. She was a woman of great parts, 
and spoke several languages with the utmost readiness ; 
for besides being well skilled^ in Greek and Latin, she 
could converse with Ethiopians, Troglodifes, Jews, 
Arabians, Syrjans, Medes and Persians, without an 
interpreter ; and always answered them in their own 
language. She was selfish and extravagant to the ex- 
treme of each quality. Her taste w r as luxury, and her 
wisdom cunning ; but accompanied with unrivalled ad- 
dress and penetration into characters. 

In her death ended the reign of the family of the 
Ptolemies in Egypt, after it had subsisted from the 
death of Alexander, two hundred and ninety-four years; 
for, after this, Egypt was reduced to a Roman pro- 
vince, and so remained for six hundred and seventy 
years, If 11 it was taken from them by the Sara- 

Female Worthies, &c. 




Daughter of Ctermont, Lord of Damp i err e, Wife first 
of M. d'Annebaut, who perished in the Civil Wars of 
Prance-, afterwards of Albert, Duke de Metz ; Lady 
of Honour to Catherine de Medicis, and Governess to 
the royal Children. Died 1603 ; aged 65. 

SHE was an only daughter, and received a most care- 
ful education, being habituated to study from her 
early youth', and inured to close application, which nei- 
ther injured her healtii or her beauty. During the 
absence of her second husband, who was successively 
ambassador in England, Germany, and Poland, she 
left her studies, to replace him near the throne, and to 
prevent his enemies having the ear of the king to his 
disadvantage. In all foreign affairs she was consulted 
as the only person at court who knew the languages. 
Afterwards, when her husband was in Italy, the mar- 
quis de Belle-Isle, her son, was gained over by the 
leaguers,- and resolved to seize his father's estate. To 
prevent him > she assembled soldiers, and put herself at 
their head ; which defeated the project, and main- 
tained her vassals in obedience to their king. 
Henry IV. who knew how to appreciate worth, ho- 
noured the duchess with praises, and loaded her with 
favours. Nobody was more happy than herself sur- 
rounded by a numerous family, and the object of gene- 
ral esteem and admiration. She survived her husband 
but a few months. 

F. C. 

Oliver III. Lord of), 

PHILIP de Valois, king of France, having caused her 
husband to be beheaded, in 1343, on an unauthenticated 
suspicion of intelligence with England, Jane, burning 



with revenge, sent her son, but twelve years of age, 
secretly to London ; and, having no more to fear for 
him, sold her jewels, armed three vessels, and with 
them assailed all the French that she met with. The 
new corsair made descents in Normandy, took 
their castles ; and the inhabitants of the villages saw 
freemen tly one of the most beautiful women 'in Europe 
with a sword in one hand, and a flambeau in the other, 
enforce, with inhuman pleasure, the horrors of her cruel 
and misplaced revenge. 

F, c. 

CLIVE, (CATHERINE) a celebrated Actress in Co- 
medy* Born 1711. 

' IN 1732, she married a gentleman in the law, bro- 
ther to lord Clive, from whom she was separated soon 
after. In 1769, she quitted the stage, and lived a re- 
tired life at Twickenham, where she died, 1785. Her 
character was regular and exemplary. 

New Biographical Dictionary, &e. 

CLOTILDA,. Queen of France, married in 491, to 
Clovn ; died 548, 

NIECE of Gondebald, king of the Burgundians, a 
woman of extraordinary beauty, sense, and virtue. Her 
fame made an impression on the heart of Clovis, who 
asked her in marriage^ and she was carried to him in a 
kind of waggon drawn by oxen, anci married at Sois- 
sons. Being a Christian, her eldest son was baptized, 
by the king's consent ; but, on his death, Clovis 
murmured loudly, yet permitted her to have the second 
baptized in like manner ; this likewise fell ill, and the 



king became furious, saying, it would die like its bro- 
ther, in consequence of being devoted to her god ; but 
the child recovered, and he began to entertain more 
favourable ideas of the Christian religion ; for in 496, 
Clovis being engaged in a bloody battle with the Ger- 
mans, he found his troops begin to give way, when, 
lifting up his eyes to heaven, he "exclaimed; " God of 
my queen Clotilda, if thou grant me victory, I here 
vow to receive baptism, and hereafter to worship no 
other god than you." Having said this, he rallied his 
forces, again led them to the charge, forced through the 
enemy 's battalion, and put them to flight. He fulfilled 
his vow ; himself, his sister, and 3000 of his subjects 
were baptized : and though this conversion in him wa 
only nominal, and affected no change in his manners, 
it was the means of establishing the Christian religion 
in, France. He died 511; his four sons succeeded 

Clodomir II. was killed in battle, and his three child- 
ren were brought up under the inspection of their vir- 
tuous grandmother ; but their barbarous and ambitious 
uncle, having by artifice got them in his power, 
threw off the mask of affection, and sent a sword and 
pair of scissars to Clotilda, the guardian of their youth ; 
the princess, in a transport of grief, inconsiderately ex- 
claimed, " that she would rather see them committed 
to the earth than shut up in a cloister." Her words 
were but too faithfully repeated ; and the youngest of 
her sons instantly murdered his two elder nephews ; 
the youngest escaped,, became a monk, and was after- 
wards invoked by the name of St. Cloud. 

% Gifford's History of France. 



COCKBURN, (CATHERINE) Daughter of Captain 
Trotter t a Scotchman, and naval Commander in the 
Reign of Charles II. Born at London, 1679. 

IN her seventeenth year produced a tragedy, called 
Agnes de Castro, which was acted in 1695. This per- 
formance, and some verses addressed to Mr. Corigreve, 
upon his Mourning Bride, in 1697, laid the foundation 
of her acquaintance with that writer. In 1698, she 
brought a second tragedy upon the stage, and, in 1701, 
a third tragedy and a comedy. She also joined about 
the same time, with several other ladies, in paying a 
tribute to Mr. Dry den, then lately dead, and their 
poems were published together, under the title of The 
Nine Muses. 

But poetry and dramatic writings were the least of 
this lady's Slents. She had a great and philosophic 
turn of mind, and began to project a defence of Mr. 
Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding, -against some 
remarks which had been made upon it at several times, 
by Dr. Burnet, of the Charter-house. This Defence was 
finished as early as the beginning of December, 1701, 
when she was but twenty -two, and drawn up in so 
masterly a way, and so much to the satisfaction of Mr. 
Locke, that he desired Mr. King, (afterwards lord high 
chancellor) to ma^e her a visit and a present of books. 
Though born a protestant, she had, when very younp-, 
an intimacy with several considerable Popish fam; 
and became a catholic for many years. But, about the 
year 1707, quitted that communion. In 1708, she was 
married to Mr. Cockburn, son of Dr Cockburn. 
eminent and learned divine of Scotland; and entirely 
diverted from her studies for many years, by attending 
to the duties of a wife and mother^ However, her zeal 
for Mr. Locke's character and writings drew her again 
into public light, when she vindicated his principles 
concerning the resurrection of the same body, against 



the injurious imputations of Dr. Holdsworth. She 
wrote two pieces on this occasion, the latter of which 
was not published till after her death. 

Her remarks upon some writers of the controversy 
concerning tiie foundation of moral Duty and moral Ob- 
ligation, were begun in 1739, finished the year fol- 
lowing, and publislied in 1743, in The Works of the 
Learned, inscribed to Alexander Pope, esquire, by an 
admirer of his moral character. Dr. Rutherford's 
Essays on the Nature and Obligation of Virtue, .pub- 
lished in 1744, soon engaged Mrs. Cockburn's atten- 
tion, and she drew up a confutation of it with perspicu- 
ity, and transmitted hci* manuscript to Mr. Warburton, 
who published it with a preface of his own, in 1747. 
The title of it runs thus ; Remarks upon the Principles 
and Reasonings of Dr. Rutherford's Essay on the Nature 
and Obligation of Virtue, in Vindication of the contrary 
Principles and Reasonings enforced in the Writings of 
the late Dr. Samuel Clarke. 

Mrs. Cockburn died in 1749, in her seventy-first year, 
and was interred -at Long Horsley, near her husband, 
who died a year before her, with this short sentence on 
their tomb, "Let their works praise them in their 
graves." Prov. xxx. 31. She was indeed an incompa- 
rable lady ; no less celebrated for her beauty in her 
younger years, than for her genius and fine accomplish- 
ments. She was small of stature, but had a remark- 
able liveliness in her eye, and a delicacy of complexion, 
which continued to her death. 

The collection of her works, lately exhibited to the 
world, is a proof of the excellency of her genius ; but her 
abilities as a writer, and the merit of her performances, 
will not have full justice done them, without duly at- 
tending to the circumstances in which they weYe pro- 
duced : her early youth, for instance, when she wrote 
some ; her very advanced age, and ill state of health, 
when she drew up others ; the uneasy situation of her 
fortune, during the whole course of her life, and an in- 


terval of near twenty years in the vigour of it, spent in 
the cares of a family, without the least leisure for reading 
or contemplation; after which, with a mind so long di- 
verted and incumbered, resuming her studies, she in- 
stantly recovered its intire power; .and in the hours of 
relaxation from her domestic employments, pursued 
to their utmost limits some of the deepest enquiries of 
which the human understanding is capable. 

Female Worthiest 

COMNENA, (ANNA) Daughter of the Emperor 
Alexis Comnenus, 

FROM her early youth, gave herself up to the study 
of letters, and employed her learning for the glory of 
her father and family. She wrote the history of his 
reign, from 1069 to 1118. This work is called The 
Alexiad. She has been accounted a partial writer ; 
but, as Vossius has observed, the matter may be well 
enough compromised by supposing, that the Latin his- 
torians have spoken of a Greek emperor less favourably 
than they* ought, and that Anna Comnena has been 
more indulgent to the character of her father than the 
strict laws of history would admit. The authors of 
the Journal des Scavans, for 1075, have spoken of this 
learned and accomplished lady in the following man- . 
ner : " The elegance," say they, " with which Anna 
Comnena has described, in fifteen books, the life and 
actions of her father, and the strong and eloquent man- 
ner in which she has set them off, are so much al- 
the ordinary understanding of women, that one is al- 
most ready to doubt, whether indeed she was the au- 
thor of these books. It is certain one cannot read the 
description she has given of countries, rivers, moun- 
tains, towns, sieges, battles, the reflection she makes 
upon particular events, the judgment *he passes- upon 



human actions, and the digressions she makes on many 
occasions, without perceiving that she must have been 
very well skilled in grammar, rhetprick, philosophy, 
mathematics; nay, that she must have had some know- 
ledge of law, physic, and divinity ; all which is very 
rare and uncommon in any of that sex." 

F. C. Ac. 

CONSTANCE, (Daughter of Conan, Bute of Brit- 
tany ) Wife tf Geoffrey Planiagenet, Son of Henry IL 
King of England. Died 1202. 

WAS contracted to him while they were both in the 
cradle, and, by her right, Geoffrey became Lord of 
Brittany. By him she had two children, Eleanor, 
called the Maid of Brittany, and Arthur, who was 
born after the death of his father. She afterwards 
married Italph Biundeville, earl of Chester, who sus- 
pected her, we know not on what foundation, of an 
intrigue with John, his most bitter enemy. He de- 
manded and obtained a divorce. Constance become free, 
married Guy, brother of the viscount de Thouars. She 
had by him a daughter named Alix, whom the Bretons, 
on the refusal of John to set free her eldest sister, elected 
for their sovereign. 

In virtue of the feudal law, the king of France claimed 
the guardianship of the children of Geoffrey ; but since 
the cession of Brittany to Roilo duke of Normandy, it 
was no longer but an arriere-fief ; and Richard being 'duke 
of Normandy was its immediate lord, inconsequence', 
laid in his claim for the same. Constance wished to 
keep it in her own name ;,. she took care to foment divi- 
sions between the .two kings, and to put herself, by 
turns, under the projection of each. As Richard in- 
commoded her the most, and was most to be feared by 
her, she took the part of Philip in the war relative to the 



imperial succession ; but did it feebly, and without any 
advantage to him. 

On the death of Richard Cceur de Lion, he altered 
his former intention of making Arthur his heir by will, as 
he was by the law of succession, heir to all his possessions 
(excepting Brittany, which, holding from his mother, 
was not Richard's to give) and appointed his brother 
John his succe^sojf ; who was governed by his mother 
as well as Artnur. John and Eleanor would have con- 
sented to the partition of empire; and have left the 
French provinces to Arthur, which was also the wish, 
and interest of the French king ; but justice would have 
given England also to Arthur ; and this partition w3 
prevented by the intrigues of his mother, and the inte- 
rest this young prince himself inspired. 

The marriage, which soon after took place between 
Lewis and Blanch, of Castile, did not long cement the 
friendship of John and Philip ; and had not Constance, 
who was a woman of conduct and courage, died at the 
time when she could -have taken advantage of circum- 
stances, and again asserted the rights of her son, it is 
most likely he would not have fallen a victim to the 
barbarity of his uncle, or his sister languished all her 
innocent life in prison. 

Rivalite de la France et de TAngleterre, <ic. 

CONSTANTIA, Daughter of 'Roger,. King of Sicily 
and Naples. Born about 1147 ; died 1200; 

ON the death of William the Good, 1189, became 
heiress to these kingdoms ; and her husband, Henry 
VI. at the same time became emperor ; on which, after 
settling the affairs of Germany, he levied an army, and 
marched into Italy, in order to be crowned by the pope, 
and go with the empress Constantia to recover the suc- 
cession of Sicily, which was usurped by Tancred, her 



natural -brother, or rather, the grandson of her father. 
In 1191, he prepared for the conquest of Naples and 
Sicily, took almost ah 1 the towns of Campania, Apulia, 
and Calabria, invested the city -of Naples, and stnt for 
the Genoese rleet, which he had engaged to come and 
form thebloekade by sea : but, before its arrival, he was 
obliged to raise the siege, in consequence of a dreadful 
mortality among the troops ; and all 'future attempts 
proved ineffectual during the life of Tancred ; after whose 
death the conquest ol Sicily was effected by the aid 
of the Genoese. 

The cruel and unworthy conduct of her husband, 
who, among his other mean acts, was the sordid jailor 
of Richard Cceur de Lion, seems not to have ac- 
corded with the spirit of Constantia. The widow 
of Tancred surrendered Salerno, and her right to 
the crown, on condition that her son William should 
possess the principality of Tarentum. But Henry 
joining the most atrocious cruelty to the basest of perfidy, 
no sooner was master of the place, than lie ordered the 
infant king to have his eyes putout, and threw him into 
a, dungeon ; the royal treasure was transported to Ger- 
many, and the queen and princesses shut up in a convent. 

In the mean time the empress was brought to bed of 
a son named Frederick, who, in his cradle, was declared 
king of the Romans. Henry returned into Germany, 
and, being solicited by the people to engage in a new 
crusade, consented, but took care to4:urn it to his own 
advantage. With the greatest hypocrisy he harangued 
a general diet, and with such solemnity, that multitudes 
from all the provinces of the empire enlisted, and he di- 
vided them into three large armies, one of which he con- 
ducted in person into Italy, in order to take vengeance 
upon the Romans of Naples and Sicily, who had risen 
against his government. 

The rebels were humbled, and their chiefs condemned 
to perish by the most excruciating tortures. One Jor- 
nandi, of the house of the Roman princes, was tied 



naked to a chair of red-hot iron, and crowned with a 
circle of the same burning metai, which was nailed to 
his head. The empress shocked at such cruelty, re- 
nounced her faith to her husband", and encouraged her 
countrymen to recover their liberties. Resolution sprang 
tiom despair. The inhabitants betook themselves to 
arms ; the empress Constantia, at the age of fifty, 
headed them. Henry having dismissed his troops, no 
longer thought necessary for his bloody purposes, and 
sent them to pursue their expedition to the Holy Land, 
was obliged to submit to \i\s wife, and to the conditions 
which she was pleased to impose on him in favour of the 
Sicilians. He died at Messina, soon after this treaty, 
1197, and, as it was supposed, of poison administered by 
the empress, who saw the ruin of her country hatching 
in his perfidious and vindictive heart. 

After his death, Constantia remained in Sicily, 
where all was peace, as regent and guardian to her in- 
fant son, Frederic II. who had been crowned king of 
that island, by the consent of pope Celestine III. But 
she also had her troubles. On the death of Celestine s 
another investiture being necessary, Innocent III. his suc- 
cessor, demanded that Constantia should renounce se- 
veral ecclesiastical privileges the kings of Sicily had been 
accustomed to possess, in the name of her sbn, and do 
liege, pure and simple homage for Sicily. But before 
any thing relative to this affair was settled, the empress 
died, leaving the regency to the pope ; so that he was 
enabled to prescribe what conditions he pleased to young 
Frederic. Perhaps thinking it better to leave those mat- 
ters to 'him* than to deprive her son of his protection, 
and subject the island again to disunion and anarchy. 

Modern History. 


THERE were three of that name, all skilled in letters. 



The Vast lived at the time, and is supposed to have been 
the favourite of Ovid; but the most iamous was of Tana- 
gra, in Boeotia, who, in no le^s than five trials, 
conquered the great poet, Pindar. Her glory seems to 
have been fully established by the public memorial of her 
picture, exhibited in her native city, and adorned with 
a symbol of her victory. Fausanius, who saw it, sup- 
poses her to have been one of the handsomest women 
of her age. Time has left us only a few scraps of Co- 
rirma's poetry. She did Justice to the superiority of 
Pindar's genius ; but advised him not to suffer his poeti- 
cal ornaments to intrude so often, as they smothered 
the principal subject; comparing it to pouring a vase 
of flowers, all at once, upon the ground ; when 
their beauty and excellence could only be observed in 
proportion "to their rarity and situation. 

Notes. to Ariosto. Anacharsis. 

CORINTHIA, Daughter of Dibutas of Slcyon, 

WAS the first who, by the shade of a lamp, drew on 
the \vall the profile of her lover, which, when filled 
and raised by her father, who worked in plaster, 
served a long time in Sicyon for an example ; from 
which the art went on to perfection. 

Abecedario Pittorico, 


AN honorary name given to the poetess (improvisa- 
trice) D. Maria Maddalena Morelli Fernandez, /who 
was solemnly crowned with the laurel in the capitol at 
Rome. The facility and ease with which ,she composed 
extempore verses in any metre, and on any literary 



subject, had rendered her the object of universal admira- 
tion ; so that the greatest and most learned people 
thought themselves honoured in visiting her. Many 
princes' paid her the most flattering distinctions"; 
and the principal poets of Italy made her the object 
of their verse. Nor in extempore poetry alone was 
she famous; but printed a little poem at Bologna, in 
praise of the empress queen, and a- great number of son- 
nets and little songs are yet in manuscript. 

She came to Rome in the year of Clement XIV. 's 
death, and began to rehearse in public, upon any sub- 
ject, either philosophical, poetical, or historical, that 
was proposed to her, with such select elegance of 
phrases, such variety of metre, sublime flights of fancy, 
and surprising celerity, that th instrument could 
hardly accompany the various sweet modulations 
of her clear loud voice. She was honoured with a 
crown by the Arcadian society, and gifted with the name 
of Gorilla. 

She returned to Rome in the autumn of the 
same year, after a summer's sojourn in Florence : 
when the same motive which had moved the Arcadians to 
crown her, induced the governors, at that time, to grant 
her a patent of Roman nobility. 

The pope, in 1776, was requested in special audi- 
ence, to decorate her with the Capitoiine crown, and he 
granted the request, provided the same experiments were 
made with her as with Perfetto. They were re- 
duced to twelve themes, to be proposed by twelve 
Arcadians. The most learned men were fixed upon 
to examine her in the presence of a crowd of nobility : 
and she was at first apprehensive. The violins began to 
accompany her ; arid whilst evepy one expected some 
exordium before thought of, she looked around terrified 
and bewildered, till seeing one of the society, a friend, 
enter, she began her song, imploring his aid. Then, 
as reflecting and disdaining human, she invoked 
divine assistance, and perpetually changing metre and 



harmony, performed her difficult task. The most ho- 
nourable testimony was given by the examiners to her 
merit, and signed with their owo hands. She was con- 
ducted by three noble Roman ladies, who were deputed, 
on the 3d of August, to the capitol, which was magni- 
ficently adorned and illuminated. Many noble foreign- 
ers were present, amongst the rest, the duke of Glou- 
cester. Kneeling she received the crown, ond was 
seated, with all usual honours, on the throne prepared. 
This lady, .who is since dead, used to compose in 
public for many years afterwards. When a subject 
was proposed, she called a musician, who played some 
air of her choosing, when she would deliver, with ap- 
propriate action, perhaps some hundred verses (some- 
times in one measure, sometimes in another, as it 
suited her taste, or the feelings of the moment 
prompted. How they would look on paper is 
not decided, as they were in general spoken o fa<t 
that, they could not be taken down in writing, 
and she was not able to repeat them but when the fit 
came upon her, which was in general in company. She 
was a fine and beautiful woman, with the marks of 
great feeling and good-nature in her countenance, but 
not irreproachable in her conduct. She did not live 
with her husband ; and used to talk on moral and 
religious point*, as if her conduct was without ble- 

CORNARO, (HELENALUCRETIA)-;5ar;i at I'cnirr 
1646'; .died i'J34 ; 

WAS the dauglner'of George Baptista Cornaro, and 
educated in a very singular manner : for she \vas tanpht 
languages ancient and modern, and sclent, as boys 
are, and went through the- philosophy of the schoote; 
thorny as it then was. After many yV-ars spent in stttcto' 
she took her degrees at Padua, 'and was perhaps rh 

* first 


first lady that ever was made a doctor. She was not 
excelled by any of the rabbies in her knowledge of 
Hebrew, and wrote Greek with great elegance, as her 
letters in those two languages preserved in the Venetian 
public library can evince She was admitted of the 
university of Rome, where she had the title of Humble 
given her, as she had at Padua that of Unalterable. 
She deserved, they say, both, since ail her learning had 
not inspired her with the least vanity, nor was any thing 
capable of disturbing that calmness of spirit, which she 
always employed in the deepest thinking. She made a 
vow of perpetual virginity ; and though all means were 
used to persuade her to marry, and even a dispensation 
from her vow obtained of the pope, she yet remained 
inflexible. She fasted often, and spent her whole time 
in study and devotion, excepting those Ijfflyrs in 
which she was obliged to receive visits ; often^laying, 
when, in obedience to her father, she 'saw company, 
" this will be the death of me." 

All persons of quality and distinction, who passed 
through Venice, were more solicitous to see her than the 
other curiosities of that superb city. The cardinals de 
Bouillon and d' Etrees, were ordered by the French king 
to call, in their way to Italy, upon Lucretia Cornaro, 
at Venice, to examine whether the report of her was 
true ; and they found that her parts and learning 
were answerable to the high reputation she had acquired 
all over Europe. At length, her indefatigable applica- 
tion to her books, to those especially which were in 
Greek and Hebrew-, impaired her constitution so much, 
that she fell into the illness of which she died. 

As soon as the news of her death reached Rome, the 
academicians, called Infecondi, who had formerly ad- 
mitted her of their society, made odes in memory of her, 
and epitaphs without number. They celebrated likewise 
a funeral solemnity in her honour, in the college of the 
Barnabite fathers, where the academy usually assem- 
bled. This solemnity was conducted with the high- 


est pomp and magnificence; and a description of it 
published at Paris in the year 1686, dedicated to 
the most serene republic of V r enice. The whole city 
flocked together to see it ; and one of the academicians 
made a funeral oration, in which, with all the pomp of 
Italian eloquence, he expatiated on the great and va- 
luable qualities of the deceased ; saying, that Helena 
Lucretia Cornaro had triumphed over three monsters, 
who were at perpetual war with her sex, viz. luxury, 
pride, and ignorance. 

It does not appear that this lady was the author of 
any literary productions. 

Female Worthies. 


OF the family of the Scipios, and mother of the 
Gracchi, so excelled in knowledge and the study of the 
sciences, that she was generally praised by the most 
learned men, for her probity, wisdom, and philoso- 
phy, lectures on which she read publicly in Rome. 
Quintilian says, ' v We are much bound to the mo- 
ther Cornelia for the eloquence of the Gracchi, 
whose unparalleled learning, in her excellent epistles, 
she hath bequeathed to posterity." Cicero says, 
in his Rhetoric, " That if the name of woman had 
not distinguished Cornelia, she had deserved the first 
place among philosophers ; because he never saw 
suoh grave sentences proceed from any mortal creature 
as were contained in her writings." 

A statue was- erected on her sepulchre, with this in- 
scription : " Here lieth interred the n.-nst learned 
Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi : she was both happy 
and fortunate in her disciples, whom she instructed, 
though unhappy in her chiidrer..'' 

F. C. *e. 

* 2 COR- 


CORNIFICIA, an Epigrammatist, Sister of the Poet 
Cornificius, in ike Time of Augustus, 

DELIVERED herself entirely to the study of poetry, 
because " science is the only thing which is not subject 
to the caprices of fortune.'' 


CORNUEL, (MADAME) a French Lady, of great 
Conversational Wit, in the seventeenth Century. 
Died 1693 ; aged 67. 

COSTA, (MARY MARGARET) Native of Rome in 
the seventeenth Century, 

A WOMAN of vast erudition, who applied herself with 
success, to various branches of literature, particularly 



HAVING practised 1 midwifery in Paris for sixteen 
years, em ployed her pen upon the subject. She afterwards 
settled at Auvergne, where she acquired the highest re- 
putation ; and not only gave her advice to the poor 
gratis, but instructed those of her own profession , und 
opened a Fchool for the reception of young pupils. 

She wrote likewise another treatise, in which she has 
given farther proofs of her good sense, her humane and 
benevolent disposition, in advice to those mothers who 
are willing to become nurses to their own children ; 
the title of her book is, Avis aux Merck cjui Nowissent 
En fans. " It is an error," says this sensible wri- 


ter, *' to imagine that a child which is put out tonurse, 
will love the parent with the same degree of tenderness, 
as it' she had nursed it herself: and the means taken to 
wean the child, and make it forget its nurse, is the first 
lesson that is taught ot indifference and ingratitude. 
The separation of children from then- nurses is, to those 
of susceptible and tender dispositions, a most cruel af- 
fliction, and very often of ill consequence. If they are 
taken away a second time, they express but little un- 
easiness, having been already taught to disengage their 
affections. This proceeding makes children atlable and 
unreserved in the world ; but they love nobody : while 
those who are brought up always with the mother, con- 
tinue their attachment during life." 

INfrs. Thicknesse. 

COUVHEUR, (ADRIH \XKLE) Daughter of a Hat- 
ter, Mt Fisntes, in Champagne. Born l(J9o ; died 
1730, aged 33; 

ONE of the most celebrated French actresses, had the 
taste to strike out a new road to excellence, by follow* 
ing simple nature in tragedy. After having acted some* 
time at Paris, she went to Strasburgh, but returned in 
1717. Expression and grace supplied what was want- 
ing of beauty in her person. She is said to have had all 
the intelligence, art, and address of Mademoiselle 
Clairon, with more sensibility. She was attached to 
the Marshal de Saxe, and from youth till the time of her 
death lived with him. . This famous hero wrote to her 
once from Courland, to enquire some means of borrow- 
ing money for him ; and, without hesitation, she sold 
her plate and jewels, and sent him 40,000 livres. 

With feeble health, and a taste for study and retirement, 
Madame le Couvreur found herself obliged to accept 
the invitations of people, who, as she complains, wanted 
to know her only from curiosity, and be presented to 
her because some people of distinction did her that ho- 
nour ; or pass for impertinent and conceited. " Not," 
N 3 add 3 


adds she, in one of her letters, " that I want gratitude 
or a desire to please ; but I find that the flattery of 
fools is not so gratifying as it is common, and that it 
becomes a burthen, when it must be bought by reiter- 
ated compliances." 



A FEMALE sculptor of- early Greece, who having, in 
competition with others masters, to form seven Amazons 
to ornament the temple of Diana at Ephesus, carried 
away the third honour, the first being given to Policletus, 
and the second to Phidias. 

Abecedario Pittorico. 

CRUZ (JEANE-IGNES DE LA), a Mexican Nun,, 
and a Voluminous Writer, 

WHOSE poems are of great repute in Spain. They are 
famous for their sublimity, force, and erudition, but are 
thought by good critics to be inferior to her works in 
prose. It is said, many Spanish poets surpass herein 
harmony, but none equal her in variety and extent of 

Father Feejoo. 

CUNITIA, or CUNITZ (MARIA), Daughter of a 
Doctor of Physic in Silesia \ married, in 1630, Doctor 
Liewen, very learned Man. She died 1664. 
A MOST extraordinary woman, who learnt languages 
with wonderful facility, understanding the German, Po- 
lish, French, Italian, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew; was 
well versed in history, natural and political, painting, 
poetry, and music. But what she applied herself most 
to was mathematics and astronomy. In 1630, she pub- 
lished astronomical tables, under the title of Urania Pro- 
pitia, which are held in high esteem; and her acquaint- 
ance was sought by the most learned astronomers, to 



many of whom she communicated memoirs of useful 
discoveries. She made verses with much facility. 

F. C. Gen. Biog. Diet. 

CYNISCA ( Daughter of Archidamas, King of Sparta) 
lived about 440- B. C'. 

"WAS the first woman who entered into the Olympic 
games. She hore away the prize of the race, and the 
Lacedemonians erected a statue to her in their city. 

F. C. 


DACIER (ANNE), Daughter of Tannegmj le Feme, 
Professor of Greek at Saumur, in France ; born 1651, 
died at the Loiwre 1720, aged 69. 
M. LE FEVRE did not intend to make his daughter a 
scholar, but he had a son whom he educated with the 
greatest care, and when he gave him his lesson, she sat 
by at her needle. The young man one day hesitated in 
his answer, and his sister, then about 10 or 11, prompt- 
ed him what to say, though seemingly intent on her 
work. The father heard, and overjoyed at the discovery, 
resolved to take her under his tuition. She, however, se- 
verely repented her officiousness, being confined to re- 
gular lessons,and deprived of the amusements and employ- 
ment suited to her early habits ; but her reluctance was 
soon overcome by his commendations, which were such, 
that from a scholar she became a confidante, was con- 
sulted in all his designs, and an assistant in all his com- 
positions. Her brother was seized with emulation, and 
they studied together with great success. She learnt La- 
tin, Italian, and Greek ; in eight years was able to 
study the last without a master, and began to be dissa- 
tisfied with the translations made from it, and generally 
N 4 approved. 


approved. She removed to Paris in 1673, the year after 
her father died, where she signalized her arrival by a 
fine edition of Cailima^hus , with the Greek Scholium, 
a Latin Version, and Critical Notes. 

This work, wlkh would have done honour to a vete- 
ran in literature, gained Mademoiselle le Fevre so much 
tame, that the Duke de Montausier, who then presided 
over the education of the Dauphin, insisted that she 
should be associated with a society of learned men, who 
were appointed to comment upon some Latin authors, 
for that prince's u?e. Her task w T as Florus, Dictys of 
Crete, Aurel'us Victor, and Eutropius. The last was 
published in 1683, for she surpassed her coadjutors in 
diligence and activity. 

Her reputation being now spread over all Europe, 
Christina, queen cf Sweden, ordered Count Konigs- 
mark to make her a complknerit in her name ; upon 
which, Mademoiselle le Fevre sent the queen a letter in 
Latin, with her' edition of Florus. Her majesty wrote 
her an obliging answer; and not long after, another let- 
ter, persuading her to quit the Protestant religion, and 
.inviting her to settle at her court. This, however, she de- 
clined, and proceeded in the tat-k ehe had undertaken, 
or' publishing authors for the use of the dauphin. 

In the year 1681, she published a translation of 
Stnccreun and Sappho t with Notes ; which met with 
such applause, that M Boileau declared it ought to de- 
ter any one from attempting to translate them into verse. 

In 1683, she published a translation of three comedies 
of Plautus, in which she imitated, with ;reat success, the 
pprightliness and gaiety of that author's stile; and, in 

1684, two comedies of Aristophanes, with remarks. In 

1685, she received a pension from the court. Two years 
preceding this, she had married M. Dacier, one of the 
scholars of her father, and son of a protestant gentleman 
of Languedoc. He had made so great a progress in his 
studies, and in the esteem of his tutor, that he permitted 
him to remain with him some years after he dismissed 



his other pupils, from which time the young Dacicr and 
Mademoiselle le Fevre were inseparable, both in their 
studies and amusements, and at length conceived the 
tenderest affection for each other, which forty years liv- 
ing together did not abate. 

Whether the large offers and recompences bestowed 
on converts of rank made any impression on them ; whe- 
ther they accounted the differences not weighty enough 
to justify a separation ; or were led by a sincere regard 
to truth ; they both at the same time declared, that their 
attachment to literature had diverted their attention from 
religion, that they were about to sequester themselves 
from company and books, and would retire for a time 
into the country, and there sedulously employ them- 
selves in canvassing the arguments of the catholics and 
reformed. The result of their retired disquisitions, 
which lasted several weeks, was, a declaration for Catho- 
licism; the public profession of which, however, they 
deferred, till their return to Paris, out of tenderness to 
their relations, whose concern at their defection they 
judged would embitter that ceremony. 

On their return to Paris in 1686, they began their 
usual exercises. Terence's Comedies were now began by 
Madam Dacier. Her critical eye could discover defects 
in translations which had till then satisfied the public. 
For four months she applied herself to the work, rising 
at. four in the morning, and then, dissatisfied with her 
success, threw the whole into the fire. But she gave not 
up the undertaking, and with redoubled diligence began 
another translation, which was printed in 1688, and was 
well worth the great pains it cost her. 

Hitherto this extraordinary couple had worked sepa- 
rately, and never united their labours. This was pro- 
posed to. them by the president Ilarloi, their patron, 
who put into their hands the Moral Reflections of Aftfra/s 
Anloninus^or a French translation, to which they added 
carious remarks, and a Life of the Author, which in t 
great measure makes up the loss of that which the err>- 
x 5 peror 


peror himself is known to have written. It was pub- 
lished in 1691. . 

Soon after, M. Dacier lost his father; the inheritance, 
thoueh chiefly his concern, seemed to require a conduct 
of which he thought his wife more capable than him- 
self. She readily postponed her beloved occupations to 
go to Castres upon her husband's affairs, and the letters 
she wrote from thence are said to be a surprizing assem- 
blage of exactness in the detail of her proceedings, of 
the tenderest sentiments of love increased by absence, 
and of erudition in her remarks on what occurred to her 
in reading, to which she devoted her leisure hours. M. 
Dacier was not wanting to make the public some 
amends, by a translation of Aristotle's Art of Poetry, 
with Notes; and it was in that kind of solitude he 
formed the grand design of a new translation of Phi- 
tarck's Lives, intending to sound the inclinations of the 
public with a volume containing six ; two he had finished 
before his wife's return, when they privately agreed to 
divide the other between them ; and secretly entertained 
themselves with the incertitude of the public, and the 
diversity of opinions to which each particular life was to 
be attributed, the perfect similarity of their genius and 
talents having transposed itself into their very expres- 

Madame Dacier soon resigned this work to her hus- 
band, to give herself entirely to a more arduous under- 
taking, the translation of Homer s Iliad, which was pub- 
lished in 1711, a task that she executed with fidelity and 
exactness, but which involved her in disputes with many 
of the literati of that age, particularly La Motte and 
Terrasson, who disputed the merit of her author. She 
answered the former by a volume intituled, Des Causes 
de la Corruption du Gout, 

Madame Dacier had lost a promising son, her eldest 
daughter was gone into a nunnery, and the youngest, 
then her only child, died at the age of eighteen. Grief 
for this loss for some time suspended her labours, and 



prevented the Odyssey's appearing till 1716. -As visual 
with her translations, which are all in prose, this was 
accompanied with a very learned preface. Soon after 
appeared, A Defence of 'Homer against Hardouin, his 
Apologist, who, she conceived, had injured him more 
than his opponents. 

After so many labours, Madame Dacier had resolved 
to write no more for the public. She still, however, 
continued her studies, till she was attacked by a paraly- 
tic stroke, in May 1720. Three months after, a second 
deprived her of life at the age of 69. Her husband sur- 
vived her but two years. 

This lady, whose labours are so important and so nu- 
merous, maintained such a confirmed habit of industry, 
that she is said not to have gone out more than six' times 
in a year ; but after having passed the whole morning in 
study, received the visits of people of letters in the even- 

Her piety, modesty, and fortitude, made her revered 
by all ranks of people ; and her benevolence to the poor 
was so unbounded, that she often suffered great inconve- 
nience by denying herself many of the comforts of life, to 
succour the unfortunate. 

F. C. Guide du Traducteur, &c. 

DAMOPHILA, a Greek Poetess, wife of Pamphilus, 

COMPOSED Hymns, which were sung in honour of 

Diana. After the example of her friend and relation 

Sappho, she held assemblies, where young women of 

superior understanding came to learn poetry and music; 

DANCY, (ELIZABETH) second Davghter of Sir 

Thomas More, 

BORN in London, 1509, was instructed in the learned 
languages, and most of the sciences, by eminent masters. 
She corresponded with Erasmus, who applauds her for 
her pure Latin stile and manner of writing. She was 



married, when very young, to Mr. Dancy, the son and 
htir of Sir John Dancy. What she wrote, and when 
she died, I do not find recorded. 

DANTE (THEODORA), ofPerouse, in Italy, in the 
End of the iQtk Century, 

HAVING learnt mathematics of her father, taught 
her son, who, as well as herself, was celebrated for his at- 
tainments in this sublime science. 

F. C. 


A FRENCH Lady, whose tales are ranked with those 
of Marmontel. 

DAPHNE, a celebrated Greek Poetess at the time of the 

Trojan War, 

FROM whom Homer is supposed by some to frive sto- 
'.'?n many of the grand beauties of his works . 

F. c. 

Born 1722, upon the borders of Lower Silesia, a/ a 
small hamlet, called Hammer. Died about 1780. 

HER father, abrewerand alehouse-keeper, was the prin- 
cipal of seven poor inhabitants, but died when she was 
not above seven years old. Her grahdnlotherVbrother, 
an- old man of good understanding, who lived in Poland, 
had taken her home to his house a few months before 
this happened, and taught her to read and write. To this 
uncle she addressed a poem, which is in her printed col- 
lection. She continued with him about three years, and 
then returned to her mother, who, it seems, had mar- 
ried again. The misfortunes which constantly attended 
}v: till she was near forty began at this period. Her 
tin- 1 employment was the care of her brothers-in-law ; 



but she soon quitted that, in order to attend upon, three 
cows, which were her parents* whole stock. The first 
signs of her natural inclination to poetry then made their 
appearance, by an uncommon desire to sing. She knew 
an hundred church hymns by heart, and sung them at 
her work, or whilst watching the cattle. Her inclina- 
tion soon promoted her to write verses, but she did not 
afterwards recollect any part of that first essay of her un- 
cultivated genius: which was accidentally assisted by a 
neighbouring shepherd, who, although separated by a 
small river, contrived to lend her a few books ; Robin- 
son Crusoe, the Asiatic Bawse, a German romance, and 
the Arabian Nights Entertainments, compos'ed their 
whole library. She read these works, perhaps as proper 
as any to keep alive the fire of the imagination, and to 
enlarge the view of fancy, with great pleasure But this 
happiness wus soon atan end , and she was obliged to return 
to her former attendance upon children, in which, and 
other laborious employments, she reached her 17th year. 
At this period^ her mother provided her a husband, 
Darbach, a woolcomber, who obliged her to prepare all 
the wool which he used; besides which, she had the 
whoFe business of the house to manage, and could find 
no time to indulge her natural propensity to writing 
verses and reading, except a few hours on Sunday, when 
she wrote down the poems she had composed during the 
\vt?ek. After having been married nine years, she was 
released ^ rom tu * 3 drudgery hy his death ; but her 
mother s'Oon engaged her to another, Karsch, who 
was much v/orse than the first. This was the most 
unfortunate p<ort of her whole life, as with all the hard- 
ships of an unhvppy marriage, she had still to encounter 
extreme poverty; .but even in these circumstances nature 
had a surprizing influence over her genius, bhe saw 
some poems, written by a clergyman named Schonc- 
mann, who is well known at Berlin to have been at 
times affected, after a violent fever, with a fort of mad- 
ness, during which he always. spoke and preached in 



verse. Although the balk of this extraordinary man's 
performances rather indicate a disordered imagination 
than the inspiration of the Muses, she found in them 
something which awakened her own genius. 

She now became more desirous than ever to follow the 
natural bent of her disposition, and was at last encouraged 
by several persons to proceed, particularly by professor 
Meyer, of Halie, who was no otherwise acquainted with 
her than by having seen one ol her poems, which were 
first committed to the pre*s. 

She removed to Great Glogau in 1755, with her hus- 
band and children, where she gained the liberty of ac- 
cess to the shop of a bookseller, and read much, but 
without any sett ltd plan. The use Mrs. Darbach (as 
she always chose to be called) made of this privilege, 
appear throughout her poems. 

The remarkable war which ended in 1764, and the 
king of Prussia's great exploits, gave new scope to 
her genius. The battle of Lowosehutz occasioned her 
first triumphal ode, and she soon after perused the mili- 
tary songs of a Prussian grenadier, some of Roniler's 
odes, and Mrs. Unzer'spoems. Her subsequent produc- 
tions, on occasion of her sovereign's victories, plainly 
shew the effect they had upon her, and are proofs of a 
poetical genius already come to maturity. 

She continued, however; stiil oppressed by poverty; 
but Providence was pleased at last to release her from a 
very deplorable state, under which few would be able to 
support themselves. 

Baron Cottwitz, a Silesian nobleman, who had long 
been celebrated for many amiable qualifications, became 
acquainted with her in the year 17<JO, as he was travel- 
ling through Glogau. He pitied her distress, and car- 
ried her to Berlin, where she became acquainted with 
several men of learning who we re judges of poetry ; her 
genius then shone with the greatest lustre, and she was 
much caressed at the Prussian court. In an edition of her 
poems, from the preface of which the preceding narra- 


tive is taken, written after this happy change of fortune, 
are a few remarks on Madame Darbach's genius, which 
we shall subjoin.' 

" Plato, in his discourse called Jo, lays it down as the 
character of a true poet, that he delivers his thoughts by 
inspiration, himself not knowing the expressions he 
makes use of. According to Irm, the harmony and turn 
of the verse produce in the poet an enthusiasm, which 
furnishes him with such thoughts and images as in a 
more composed hour he would have sought in vain. 

" This observation is verified in our authoress, who, 
without design, without art, and without instruction, 
is arrived at a wonderful perfection in the art, and may 
be placed among poets of the first class. It is from this 
cause she has been more successful in such pieces as were 
written whilst her imagination was warm, than in those 
which she has composed coolly, deliberately, and in lei- 
sure hours; the latter atways bearing some marks of art, 
and betraying. the absence of the muse. 

" Whenever she is in a particular manner struck by 
any object, either in her solitary hours, or when in com- 
pany, her spirits immediately catch the flame she has 
no longer the command of herself, every spring of her 
soul is in motion ; she feels an irresistible impulse to 
compose, with quickness commits the tnoughts to paper 
with which she is inspired; and, like a watch just 
wound up, as soon as her soul is put into motion by the 
impression the object has made, she expresses herself in 
poetry, without knowing in what manner the ideas and 
figures arise in her mind. 

" Another and more nice observation of Plato's is, that 
the harmony and turn of the verse keep up the inspira- 
tion. Of this truth likewise our authoress is a living in- 
stance. No sooner has she hit upon the 'tone, as she 
calls it, and the foot of the verse, but the words go on 
fluently, and she is never at a loss for thought or ima- 
gery. The most delicate turns of the subject and ex- 


pression arise in her mind (while she is yet writing) as 
if they were dictated to her." 

Of'"her extempore performances, we have an excellent 
specimen in that beautiful Ode, Sacred to the Memory 
of her deceased Uncle, the Instructor of her Infancy, 
written in the Year 176*1, at a time when she happened 
to be engaged in company of the first rank at Berlin : it 
consists of eight of six lines each, of which the 
third and sixth have nine syllables, the others ten. It 
seems, whilst she was hi this select party, she was 
touched, by a sudden reflection, with a keen sense of the 
great difference between her present condition and the 
early part of her life, and of the great obligat'on she was 
under to the good old man, who, by his tender care and 
instruction, had laid the foundation of her present hap- 
piness. Overcome with the sense of this, and with a 
heart replete with gratitude, she could contain herself 
no longer, but, before all the company, poured forth 
the overflowings of her soul, nearly in the following 
words : 

" Arise from the dust, ye bones that rest in the land 
where I passed my infant years. Venerable sage, re- 
animate thy body ; and ye lips that fed me with the 
honey of instruction, once* (more) be eloqaent. 

" O, thou bright shade! look down upon me from 
the top of Olympus. Behold! I am no longer follow- 
ing the cattle in the fields. Observe the circle of refined 
mortals who surround me, they all speak of thy niece's 
poems. O listen to their conversation, thy praise! 

For ever flourish the broad lime, under whose shade I 
was wont to cling round thy neck, full of tenderness, 
like a child to the be;<t of fathers, whi'st thou wast re- 
posing thyself on the mq?sy seat, tired as the reaper 
with the fatigues of a sultry day. 

Under yon green-arched roof I used to repeat to thee 
twenty passages in praise of God supreme, though they 
were much 'above my comprehension; and \\hen 1 ii^k- 



ed thee the meaning of many a dark sentence in the 
Christian's sacred records. Good man ! thou didst ex- 
plain them to me. 

Like a divine in sable vest, who, from the lofty pul- 
pit, points out the way that leads' to life, so didst thou 
inform me of the fall of man, and the covenant of 
grace; and I, all raptures, snatclied the words from thy 
lips with eager kisses. 

Thou inhabitant of some celestial sphere! hehold the 
silent tears of joy ; may they often roll down my cheeks. 
If thou canst speak, dear shade, tell me, didst thou ever 
conceive any hopes of my present fortune and honour, at 
a time when my eyes were successively engaged in read- 
ing, every day improving? 

When at thy side on some rosy bank I sat,- weaving 
into chaplets for thy temples the flowers my little hands 
had gathered, and looking up to thee, smiling filial 
love ; Did thy soul then presage the good things that 
are now come to pass ? 

Mayest thou be clothed with three-fold radiance, and 
mayest thou be refreshed with the emanations of divine 
complacence more than the soul of thy companions ! 
May every drop of temporal pleasure, with which my 
cup of joy overflows, be rewarded unto thee with con- 
tinu.ii draughts from the ocean of eternal beatitude!" 

The complimentary verses on the departure of our 
queen for England, are pleasing and proper for the pur- 
pose. Some written on the death of Prince Henry of 
Brunswick (both of which appeared in English verse, in 
the Annual Register for 17(J4), contain the following 
beautiful thought : 

" Thus, by a skilful workman's aim, 

Late tow'ring to the sky, 
A cedar falls, designed to frame 

An idol-deity ; 

Which soon the worship of mankind, 

And incense, shall receive : 
My hero thus in every mind 

Immortalized shall live." 



We are sorry to see, in a later work, that Mrs. Karsch 
was suffered to languish afterwards in poverty and ob- 

Annual Register. Picture of Italy. 

DAVIES (LADY ELEANOR), fifth Daughter of 
Lord George Audley^ Earl of Cattleharen, born the 
latter end of Queen Elizabeth s, or beginning of James 
the First's Reign-, Died 1652. 

SHE had a learned education, and was married to Sir 
John Davies, the king's first serjeant-at-law in England, 
and attorney-general in Ireland, by whom she was the 
mother of one son, a perfect ideot, who died young, and 
of one daughter. Three months after the death of Sir 
John, she was married to Archibald Douglas, but was 
not happy with either of her husbands, on account of 
her pretences to inspiration, and the offence her publi- 
cations gave, one of which at leeust was burnt by each 
of them. The first of her works which appeared 
had this fantastic title: The Lady Eleanor, her Appeal. 
Present this to Mr. Mace, the Prophet of the Most High, 
his Messenger. Printed in the Year 1646. It contains 
forty pages, and concludes with this anagram : 

Reveal O Daniel. 
Eleanor Audley. 

She became acquainted, in 1625, with a Scotch lad, 
about the age of thirteen, who was called the Dumb 
Boy, or Fortune Teller, who, in a sort of whistling voice, 
like a bird, was supposed to foretel events, and to whom 
the Lady Davies shewed great favour. A great outcry 
was, however, soon raised against him as a witch or 
wizard, and he was obliged to leave the place, when, to 
confound his persecutors (says the lady), the spirit of 
prophecy fe41 upon me; then were all vexed worse than 
ever, ready to turn the hquse upside down, laying this 
to his charge. 



On this, she laid aside all household cares, and con- 
versation with any one, excepting the Bible, in which 
she saw strange things, and fancied, from the above ana- 
gram (a species "of fancy to which she was much ad- 
dicted), that the soul of the prophet Daniel was infused 
into her. 

Some fortunate guesses concerning events, particularly 
about deaths of people, which she frequently predicted, 
made many put great faith in what she said, and con- 
sult her in events, amongst whom was the queen of 
Charles I. But whatever opinion the queen might have 
of Lady Eleanor's prophetic spirit, his majesty appears 
by no means pleased with the use she made of it ; and 
therefore, upon her taking a house at St. James's, sent 
Mr. Kirk (one of his bed-chamber) to her, to inform 
her of his displeasure, and, that if she did not leave off 
her " Predictions relative to his affairs, he would take 
another course. To which (says she) my answer was, 
I would take a course against him, namely, Sir Archi- 
bald Douglas, that had burnt my papers to purchase his, 
favour, and that he and all should 'know shortly. 

In the conclusion, Mr. Kirk said, he was not carried 
with the vulgar, but prayed me to tell him, whether 
the king should have a son or no. Unwilling to send 
him empty away, assured him a son, and a strong child; 
he not sparing to impart, accordingly solemnized with 
bon-fires, &c." But this spirit of divination proved very 
unfortunate, and involved her in great trouble and vexa- 
tion; for having printed some more prophecies, and 
drawn up a very offensive petition, she was summoned 
by his majesty's order before the ecclesiastical court, ia 
10'33, where her book was burnt; on which, she told 
archbishop Laud when he should die ; and was fined 
three thousand pounds, excommunicated, no bible, pen 
and ink, or woman-servant, allowed her, but confined to 
prison for ever. She, however, staid but two years. 

There are writers of no mean repute, who speak highly 
in her commendation. As for her character, there needs 

' little 


little more be said (says the continuator of Baker* s Chro- 
nicle) than to repeat what has been delivered concerning 
her by the elegant pen of the learned Dr. Peter Du Mou- 
lin. " She was x " says he, " lean. ed above her sex, 
humble below her fortune, having a mind so great and 
noble, that prosperity could not make it remiss, nor her 
deepest adversity cause her to shrink or discover the least 
pusillanimity or dejection of spirit; being full of the 
love of God, to that fullness the smiling world could not 
add, nor the frowning detract." 

The year before her death, she printed a pamphlet, 
entitled. The Restitution of Prophecy ; that Luried Talejit 
to be revived. By the Lady Eleanor, 1651. The greatest 
part of the tract is very obscure, except the historical, 
in which are said very severe things against the persecu- 
tors of herself and her family. 

Female Worthies, &c. 

DEBORAH, Prophetess and Judge of Israel, 
HOLDS the first rank among the illustrious women 
mentioned in Scripture. She freed the Hebrews from 
the yoke of the Canaanites, and governed them during 
forty years with as much glory as wisdom. P. le Moine 
remarks, that the Bible, which has not hidden the fail- 
ings of the patriarchs, which has shewn the mistrust of 
Moses and Aaron, the imprudence of Joshua, the incon- 
tinence of Sampson, the fall of David, and the follies 
of Solomon, has recorded nothing of Deborah but her 
hymns and prophecies, her victories and her laws. 

Josephus, &c. 

DEBORAH, Wife of Ascaliel, a Jeicish Rabbi at Rome, 

in the beginning of the 17 th Century, 
APPLIED herself to Italian poetry, and translated 
many works from the Hebrew into that language 

F. c. 


DEL ANY (MARY), the second Wife of Dr. Patrick 

Delany, a Lady of distinguished ingenuity and merit. 

Born at a small Country Bouse of her Father s, at Coul- 

ton, in Wiltshire, May 14, 1700. 

SHE was the daughter of Bernard Glanville, afterwards 
Lord Lansdowne, a nobleman whose abilities and virtues, 
whose character as a poet, whose friendship with Pope, 
Swift, and other eminent writers of the time, and whose 
general patronage of men of genius .and literature, have 
so often been recorded in biographical productions, that 
they cannot be unknown to any of our readers. As 
the child of such a family, she could not fail of receiving 
the best education. It was at Long Leat, the seat of the 
Wey mouth family, which was occupied by Lord Lans- 
downe during the minority of the heir of that family, 
that Miss Glanville first saw Alexander Pendarves, Esq. 
a gentleman of large property at Roscrow, in Cornwall, 
who immediately paid his addresses to her; which 
were so strenuously supported by her uncle, whom she 
had not the courage to deny, that she gave a reluctant 
consent to the match ; and accordingly it took place in 
the compass of two or three weeks, she being then in the 
17th year of her age. From a great disparity of years, 
and other causes, she was very unhappy during the time 
this connection lastecl. However, she endeavoured to 
make the best of her situation. The retirement to which 
she was confined was wisely employed in the farther cul- 
tivation of a naturally vigorous understanding ; and the 
good use she made of her leisure hours was eminently 
evinced in the charms of her conversation, and in 
her letter-;. That quick feeling of the elegant and 
beautiful which constitutes taste, she possessed in 
an eminent degree, and was therefore peculiarly fitted 
for succeeding in the line arts. At the period \ve are 
speaking of, she made a great proficiency in music. As 
to painting, which afterwards she most loved, and in 
which she principally excelled, it had not as yet enga- 


ged her practical attention. In 1724, Mrs. Pendarves 
became a widow, upon which occasion she quitted Corn- 
wall, and fixed her principal residence in London. For 
several years- between 1730 and 1736, she maintained a 
correspondence with Dr. Swift. In 1743, Mrs. Pen- 
darves was married to Dr. Delany, with whom it 
appears she had long been acquainted, and many 
years entertained a very high esteem. She had 
been a widow nineteen years, when this connection, 
which was a happy one, took place. Her husband re- 
garded her almost to adoration. Upon his decease in 
May, 1768, she intended to fix herself at Bath, and 
was in quest of a house for that purpose. But the duch- 
ess dowager of Portland, hearing of her design, went 
down to the place; and, having in her early years form- 
ed an intimacy with Mrs. Delany, wished to have near 
her a lady from whom she had necessarily, for several 
years, been much separated, and whose heart and ta- 
lents she knew would in the highest degree add to the 
happiness of her own life. Her grace succeeded in her 
solicitations. Mrs. Delany now passed her time between 
London and Bulstrode. On the death of the duchess 
dowager of Portland, the king, who had frequently seen 
and honoured her with his notice at Bulstrode, as- 
signed her for a summer residence the use of a house 
completely furnished, in St. &lban*s-street, Windsor, 
adjoining to the entrance of the castle; and, that the 
having two houses on her hands might not produce any 
inconvenience with regard to the ex pence of her living, 
his majesty, as a farther mark of lys royal favour, con- 
ferred on her a pension of three hundred pounds a-year. 
On the 15th of April, 1788, after a short indispo- 
sition, she died at her house in St. James's- place, 
having nearly completed the 88th year of her age. The 
circumstance that has principally entitled Mrs. Delany 
to a place in this Dictionary, is* her skill in paintii g, 
and in other ingenious arts, one of which \vas entirely 
her own. With respect to painting, she was kite in her 



application to it. She did not learn to draw till she was 
more than thirty years of age, when she put herself un- 
der the instruction of Goupy, a fashionable master of 
that time, and much employed by Frederick, Prince of 
Wales. To oil painting she did not take till she was 
past forty. So strong was her passion for this art, that 
she has frequently been known to employ herself in it, 
day after day, from six o'clock in the morning till din- 
ner time, allowing only a short interval for breakfast. 
She was principally a copyist, but a very fine one. The 
only considerable original work of hers in oil, was the 
raising of Lazarus^ in the possession of her friend lady 
Bute. The number of pictures painted by her, consider- 
ing how late it was in life before she applied herself to 
the art, was very great. Her own nouse was full of 
them, and others are among the chief ornaments of Cals- 
wich, Welbourn, and Ham, the respective residences of 
her nephews, Mr. Glanville and Mr. Dewes, and of her 
niece Mrs. Port. Mrs. Delany, among her other ac- 
complishments, excelled in embroidery and shell-work ; 
and, in the course of her life, produced many elegant 
specimens of her skill in these respects. But what is 
more remarkable, at the age of seventy-four, she invent- 
ed a new and beautiful mocle of exercising her ingenuity. 
This was by the construction of a Flora, of a most sin- 
gular kind, formed by applying coloured papers toge- 
ther, and which might not improperly be called a spe- 
cies of mosaic work. Being perfectly mistress of her 
scissars, the plant* or flower which she purposed to imi- 
tate she cutout, that is, she cut out its various leaves 
and parts, in such coloured Chinese paper as suited her 
subject ; and, as she could not always meet with a co- 
lour to correspond with the one she wanted, she then 
dyed her own paper to answer her wishes. She used a 
black ground, as best calculated to throw out her flower, 
arid not the least astonishing part of her art was, that 
though she never employed her pencil to trace out the 
form er shape oi' her plant, yet when she had applied all 



the pieces which composed it, it hung so loosely and 
gracefully, that every one \vas persuaded it must pre- 
viously have been drawn out, and repeatedly corrected 
by a most judicious hand, before it could have attained 
the ease and air of truth which, without any impeach- 
ment of the honour of this accomplished lady, might 
justly be called a forgery of nature's works. The 
effect was superior to what painting could have pro- 
duced ; and so imposing, that she would sometimes 
put a real leaf of a plant by the side of one of her own 
creation, which the eye could not detect, even when she 
herself pointed it out. Mrs. Delany continued in the 
prosecution of her design till the 83d year of her age, 
when the dimness of her sight obliged her to lay it aside. 
However, by her unwearied perseverance, she became 
authoress of far the completest Flora that ever w r as exe- 
cuted by the same hand. The number of plants 
finished by her amounted to nine hundred and 

This invaluable Flora was bequeathed by her to her 
nephew, Court Dewes, Esq. and is now in his posses- 
sion. The liberality of Mrs. Delany's mind rendered 
her at all times ready to communicate her art. She 
frequently pursued her work in company ; was desirous 
of shewing to her friend? how easy it was to execute, 
and was heard to lament that so few would attempt it. 
It required, however, great patience and great know- 
ledge in botanical drawing. She began to write poetry 
at eighty years of age. 

BSog. Brit. 

DESCARTES, (CATHERINE), Nw of the famous. 

Philosopher of that Name. Died 1700'. 

DISTINGUISHED herself by htr wit and knowledge ; 
writing, both in prose and verse, in a natural and ele- 
gant style. She was the friend of Mademoiselle de 
Scud erf. Some of her piece? are in the poetical col- 
lection of P. Bonhours and the poems'bf Madame de 



la Suze ; but her chef-d'oeuvre seems to be two com- 
positions, in which she has raised a lasting monument to ] 
the memory of her uncle. The first is called La Rela- 
tion de la ~Mort de Descartes, part in verse, part in 
prose ; the latter, I' Ombre de Descartes. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. 

DEYSTER, (ANNE) Daughter of a Painter at Bruges, 
in the Beginning of the eighteenth Century, 

DREW well, and employed herself in making copies 
of her father's works, which were often mistaken for ori- 
ginals. She was likewise a musician ; played on all 
instruments, but particularly excelled on the harpsi- 

DIANA, Duchess of Castres and Angoulcme, Dowager 
of Montmorenci, Daughter of Henry II. -King of France 
by a Piedmontese Lady. Born 1539; died 1619 9 

aged 80. 

IN 1552, her father married her to Horace Farnese, 
duke de Castres, second son of the diike of Parma, 
whom the king protected against the emperor ; but 
he dying in six months, Diana, then fourteen, re- 
mained a widow three years, w*hen her hand was of- 
fered to Francis de Montmorenci, the eldest son of the 
constable of France : preoccupied by another passion, 
the young man resisted alike the entreaties and menaces 
of his father, and married the object of his first love, al- 
though a law had already declared such an union invalid. 
The constable applied to the ecclesiastical authority ; 
but, before sentence was pronounced, a sudden change 
took place in the heart of his son ; he disavowed his 
marriage, and became the husband of Diana in 1557. 

o Diana 


Diana acceded to the treasure oniy in obedience t* 
her father. A man wlio hud amouicu her 1^ a refusal, 
and who wasguhty or &uch an dot of ptnulv, couid not 
inspire any prepossession ,n his iavi> .r ; yet she soon 
sincerely loved him, and hu* beauty and amiabit qua- 
lities? secured all his ^flection. 

Ou the death of her father and accession of Francis 
II. the influence of the o-.ises prevailed ; they were ene- 
mies of th house 01 her husband, who was aiterwards 
recalled from jhngjaud, by the execrable Catherine de 
Medicis, to be one ox the Victims on the day oi Saint 
Bartholomew. Diana, however, on the watch, and 
fearfui for the safety of one &o dear, prevailed upon him 
to retire to Chantil.y the evening betbre that horrible day. 
On the deatli of Charles IX. the queen began to fear 
the loss of her authority, and sought to secure the per- 
son of the duke before the return of Henry III. from Po- 
land. Sue recalled him to court : Diana besought him 
not to. go ; recapitulated the reasons she had to fear 
and guard agam&t her insidious policy ; but he was not 
to be persuaded ; he went, and was instantly sent to 
the Bastille ; from whence it was long before he was 
delivered. He died in L,7. () /and his loss was deeply la- 
mented by Diana, to whom he had been married two 
and twenty years, and who afterwards attached herself 
to the interests of Henry III. during ail his misfortunes ; 
making many journies to secure peace to the state. 
It wa^ she, who, after the death of the duke of Guise, 
negotiated the peace between him and the king of Na- 
varre. This prince, always duped by the French 
court, and always upon his guard, had so much con- 
fidence in her good faith, that he said : " Madam, if 
you give me your word that they will act sincerely with 
me, all stipulations are useless. I would sooner believe 
you than a thousand bonds." 

The assassination of the king, her brother, filled Diana 
with despair. She confined herself to .the castle of 
Chinon, in Touraine, and by his death became duchess 



of Angouleme : yet Henry IV. asked her counsel, pro- 
filed by it, and when lie was established in the kingdom, 
recalled her to court. He pardoned her nephew, a 
conspirator, in consequence of the high esteem he had 
for the duchess. 

Lewis XIII. was the seventh king Diana had seen 
upon the throne. After so many disastrous reigns, he 
could not but be dear to the people, and she in particular 
beheld him with a mingled sensation of fear and joy-. 
She presided over his education, and was witness to the 
tumultuous commencement of his reign ; but when he 
seemed to be finally settled, retired from court ; con- 
tented at the prospect of peace for the nation, and 
regretting none of the amusements of which her a^e- 
and infirmities deprived her, but that of the chace. She 
cultivated the sciences to the end of her life, and a few 
months only before her death, repeated the who e of 
play which she had acted a part in at the age of twelve. 
All historians praise her piety. Her house was- open to 
good preachers, and she wished all her people and ac- 
quaintance to come and hear them She never had but 
one child, which was by her second husband, and died 
the same day it was born. 

DIANA, or DIANA-MANTUANA, a famous En- 

graver of Volterra, in Italy , - x 

WHO by connoisseurs is supposed to have reached the 
perfection of the art. 

F. C, 


WIFE of the famous Guido Mazzoni, a sculptor of Mo 
, learnt, it is said, ihc art of sculpture of her husband, 
o 2 and 


and formed perfect figures in terra cotta. She was ce- 
lebrated by Guarrico and other writers. 

Abec. Pitt. 

DIDO, (or ELISA) Queen of Carthage, Sister to Plg- 
malion, King of Tyre, and Wife of Sichceus, her Rela- 
tion, who was murdered by her Brother on account of his 
great Riches. 

DIDO, detesting the execrable deed, and desirous to 
disappoint him. of the expected fruit of his crime, lul- 
led his suspicions to sleep till she had all things in 
readiness, and then privately eloped with her sister 
Anna, the flower of the Tyrian youth, and her most 
valuable effects. 

After a long series of disastrous events, she landed on 
the coast of the Mediterranean, at a little distance from 
the place where the city of Tunis now stands, There, 
having purchased some land of the natives, she settled 
a colony of those who had followed her fortunes, B. G. 
888. The natives of the country, invited by a prospect 
of gain, soon resorted to the strangers with the necessa- 
ries of life, and such other commodities as were most 
wanted. Finding themselves always civilly treated, 
they gradually incorporated themselves with them, and 
became one people'. After a time, the citizens of Utica 
also, beginning to consider them as countrymen, sent 
;<mb;issadors, with considerable presents, exhorting 
them to build a city on the place where they first 
landed. This proposal being agreeable to the secret 
wishes of Dido, and her infant colony, it was begun, 
and called Carthada, or Carthage, which, in the Phoe- 
nician language, signified the New City. 

What Virgil has related concerning this princess, is 
only to be considered as a poetical fiction; since it ap- 
pears that she lived at least two hundred years before 
the time of his hero, ./Eneas ; and at last 'finished her 



days, not, as he represents, a victim to love, but to con- 
jugal fidelity, it being then considered criminal to marry 
a second time. Dido was courted by Jarbas, king of 
Getulia, who threatened her with war in case of a re- 
fusal. "Her subjects also urged her to accept his hand ; 
and she foresaw that she should either be obliged to vio- 
late her vows to Sichreus, or bring a powerful enemy 
on her infant coloriy. To extricate herself therefore 
from the difficulty, she threw herself upon a funeral 

Eile, to which she had previously set fire, andHhat 
er subjects had erected, unconscious of the purpose to 
which she meant to apply it. 

When we consider that a city, which soon became the 
first in arts and commerce, and the second in power, 
owed its political existence to Dido ; that, during her 
life, she governed it with so much prudence, and, 
at^her death, made so disinterested a sacrifice for its 
safety; we muit class her in the first rank of heroines. 

Alexander's Hist, of Women. 


INSTRUCTED Socrates in Philosophia Amatoria, or 
how, from corporeal beauty, to find out that of the 
soul, th mind, and God. 

Female Worthies. 

DODANA, Wife of Bernard, Duke of Sett mania, 
or of Gotha, in the Middle of the nineteenth Cen- 

WAS illustrious for her piety and talents ; and com- 
posed a Manual, in Latin, lor the instruction of her 
children, divided into 63 chapters, and full of moral and 
religious lessons, 


o 3 DSINGU, 


DSIXGU, (Empress of Japan) 

WHO, accompanied he* husband Tsiuu-ti, in the war 
he undertook, in 03, to gain the.Corean peninsula. 
Dying in the beginning of this expedition, the monarch 
charged her to complete the conquest; which shs did 
with great expedition and rapidity. 


DUBEC, (RENE'E) Martchalede Guebriant, 

DISTINGUISHED for her wit and great talents ; am- 
bassadress extraordinary to Poland ; an employment 
which she filled with great dignity. Le Laboureur has 
written her life. She died at 1'aiis 1659, 


A FAMOUS painter/wife of Girardon, the Sculptor. 

XXUME'E, (JANE) a celebrated Parisian Astronomer, 
of the seventeenth, Century, 

WAS married very young, and became a widow at 
the age of seventeen. Nothing now prevented her from 
delivering herself up to the study of astronomy, which 
she did with such success, that she published a work, 
in l(J80, respecting the opinions of Copernicus, which 
was executed \vith precision and elegance, as well as 
force of reasoning. 




DUMONT, (MADAME) , D'+'tftrr of M. Lutel, 
Comptroller-general to the Duke of Orleans ; a French, 
Lady, of the eighteenth Century ; 

MARRIED early in life to M. Dumont, a gentleman of 
eminence in the law. She published a translation of the 
Odes of Horace, and a Collcct'w of Pieces, in pro: i 
verse ; which wtra ail -well rtceived, She was also an 
admirable musician; 


born at Nismes, ItitfS ; died 1720. 

HER maiden name was Petit. She was educated in 
the Protestant religion, and seems to have suffered 
much persecution ; giving, in her memoirs, a long detail 
of the cruelties exercised on the Huguenots at-Nismes ; 
from which she fled for shelter to Geneva, and thence 
to Zurich,- in Switzerland. It is not very easy to give a 
just idea of the character of this lady. From reading 
her own account, one would be apt to think she was 
the most virtuous and unfortunate woman that ever 
existed. On the other hand, her husband, who, ap- 
pears himself to have been an indifferent character, 
represents her in odious colours, and endeavours to set 
her in a most contemptible light. Which of these ac- 
coujits we are to credit, is rather difficult to decide ; but 
the probable conclusion is, that M;:dame Dunoyer was 
not so good as she describes herself, nor so bad. as her 
husband took pains to make the world believe. 

After she left Switzerland, Madame Dunoyer made 
an excursion to England ; of which nation *cie gives a 
long and curious account ; and, upon the whole, a very 
candid one. Some time after, she visited Holland, and 
became acquainted with Voltaire, to whom she proved 

o 4 an 


an implacable enemy. Her dislike arose from his en- 
deavouring to convert her daughter, with whom he was 
passionately in love, to the catholic religion. Madame 
Dunoyer, who was a zealous protestant, highly re- 
sented this conduct, and forbade his ever visiting her 
daughter. He, however, persuaded the latter to con- 
sent to some stolen interviews ; hut the\r place of ren- 
dezvous was discovered, and her mother, by some 
complaint which she made against Voltaire, obtained 
an order to have him sent out of Holland. This he re- 
ceived from the hands of a French ambassador, who 
commanded him not to quit his apartment till the mo- 
ment of his departure. Upon which he wrote to Ma- 
demoiselle Dunoyer a letter full of complaints and mur- 
murs against her mother. 

This, and other letters in the same style, fell into the 
hands of Madame Dunoyer, who, of course, grew 
much more exasperated against him. She accused him, 
perhaps with great reason, of not being so much in 
love as he pretended, and even of copying some of the 
most tender expressions, in his epistolary correspond- 
ence, verbatim, from the letters of Abeiard and He- 

She is the author of a Rccveil de Lettres Historiques et 
Galantes, in which are interwoven the news of the day, 
and things which chiefly concerned herself. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. 

DUPRE, (MARIA) a Parisian of the seventeenth Cen- 
tury ; SUT named the Cartesian, from her Attachment 
to the Philosophy of Descartes ; was Daughter of John 
and Niece of Roland Desmaretz. 

THIS learned man having remarked the 'aptitude of 
his niece to acquire knowledge, undertook himself the 
care of her education, he remarked, that she avoided 



the ordinary amusements of childhood ; that she had a 
good memory, and soon acquired a complete knowledge 
of French literature ; on which he determined to teach 
her the dead languages ; in which she made a rapid pro- 
gress, not only acquiring Latin and Greek, but excel- 
ling in poetry, rhetoric, and philosophy. After she lost 
her uncle, in 1653, she also studied Italian ; she held a 
correspondence with all the literati of that age, and 
wrote in her own language with the same purity and 
elegance with which she spoke it. 

F. C 

Madame ) a distinguished French Novel Writer. Died 
1736, at an advanced. Age. 

THE titles of her works are, La Comtesse de Mortane ; 
Memoires de la Cour de Charles VII. ; Petits Soupers de 
VEtc ; le Comte de Cardomie, ou la Constance Victo- 
rieuse ; Histoire Sicilienne ; les Belles Grecqiies, this is. a 
history of the most famous Grecian courtisans ; f His- 
toire de Henri, Due des Vandalcs ; Comedies en froverles,, 
and some poetical pieces, which are not worth much. 

F, c- 


EBB A, (Abbess of Coldingham, in Ireland), 

HEARING of an invasion of the Danes, who put 
every thing to fire and sword, and committed the most 
horrid barbarities, Ebb- tt persia ledlhe nuns oi her monas- 
tery to save themselves from the Violence ot these bar- 
barians, by disfiguwig ..their faces, so as to- become ob- 

^ jects 


jects of horror rather than of love. Persuaded by her 
eloquence and example, the whole community cut off 
their noses and upper lips. When the Danes came 
and saw them in this state, they were so enraged that 
they set fire to the convent, and these martyrs to chas- 
tity perisiied in the flames. 


ELEANOR of AQUITAIN, Heiress of Guyenne, 
Poitou, Saintonge, Aurergne, Limosin, Perigord, and 
Angoumois. Died 1202, at the Monastery of ton- 
tevrau/t; aged 81. 

ELEANOR was scarcely sixteen at the death of her fa- 
ther, and possessed of the most consummate beauty, 
elegance of manner, and vigour of mind. He had des- 
tined her for the^eldest son of the king of France, after- 
wards Lewis VIL whom accordingly she married in 
113?. Ten years after she accompanied her husband to 
the Holy land, where her conduct gave pom for the 
suspicions he began to entertain ; and violent dissen- 
tions took place between them. These were fomented 
by her uncle, the prince of Antioch, who had little re- 
spect, any more than Eleanor, for the character and ca- 
pacity of Lewis. He persuaded her to demand the 
cassation ot the marriage. 

Eleanor entered but too readily into his views; and 
the king did not op pose them. It is certain that her scorn 
towards him augmented every day; that she had a free 
carriage and a haughty soul ; and that she was perfectly 
the opposite to her husband ; who, on his side, ' had all 
the aversion such a contrariety of mind must inspire. 
She said, she expected to have married a king, but he 
was only a monk. 

Lewis had cut oil his hair from a principle of devo- 
tion, then in fashion ; an act which made him ridiculous 
in her eyes. Lewis told her gravely, ** she ought not 



to be witty on such matters." She answered by fresh 
railleries. In fine, he was as anxious for the divorce as 
herself, which took place on the 18th of March, 1155. 
On the 8th of May, the same year, Eleanor elected, 
from her numerous suitors, for her second husband, 
Henry, duke of Normandy, and carried with her all her 
large possessions, though she had two daughters by Lew is. 
The breaking this unhappy marriage, destroyed what 
the policy of Louis le Gros had contrived, and all the 

frandeur that the prime minister had promised to 
ranee. Eleanor made choice of a husband, who, by 
Ills ardour for pleasure and business, by the proud 
dignity of his soul and his brilliant talents, appeared the 
most different to her former one. " Who would not 
have regarded this marriage as a happy one," says 
Gaillard ; " they were almost chosen the one by the 
other ; an advantage princes rarely possess ; and, as to 
political reasons, Eleanor had given to the most potent- 
king in Europe, a third of France. Five sons and three 
daughters, seemed to promise them happiness ; but vio- 
lent tempests troubled their repose." 

This Eleanor, whose conduct had forced Lewis the 
Young to a separation ; Eleanor, who of all people, 
ought not to have been jealous of a husband, had the 
misfortune to be so to excess. She could not pardon 
the infidelities of Henry, whom she persecuted in his 
mistresses, and by his sons. The famous Rosamond 
held for a long time captive the heart of Henry, who 
would never sacrifice her to Eleanor, but who could 
scarcely protect her from- violence. Not less ambition-; 
than jealous ; or perhaps, jealous only because she was 
ambitious ; Eleanor was i .(>!i y r >nt that Henry refused 
her the management of t ice?, she had brought 

to him in marriage ; and ,; h. t o'tr the effects of 
her resentment, that she forced him to take measures 
which were the source of misery to both. She fo- 
mented the revolts and discoiiUr.t of her children ; who 
learned, in the French court, machinations to destroy 



the peace, and, finally, the life of their father. She 
wished herself to join them, and was discovered, in the 
habit of a man, attempting an escape, by Henry, who 
kept her in prison for some years. This severity, 
which appeared a criminal and scandalous ingratitude 
towards a queen to whom he had owed his greatness in 
France, without doubt, increased the number of the re- 

After the death of his eldest son; Richard, now heir to 
the crown, became the source of equal trouble and grief 
to his too indulgent parent,who did not yetlose patience, 
but, releasing Eleanor from prison, was reconciled to 
her; and, partly by persuasions, partly by authority, 
a temporary peace was again established with his re- 
bellious offspring. 

Adelaide, the daughter of the French king, was 
contracted to Richard ; but Henry shewed no im- 
patience to consummate their marriage. Her father 
and intended husband pretended .to be displeased at 
this, in order to give grounds for the continental war, 
which destroyed the peace of Henry's old age : and 
Eleanor accused him of being himself fond of -Adelaide. 
A report even arpse, that lie wibhed to divorce the 
former, marry her, and, if he had children by her, 
wou^d declare them his heirs. It is doubtful whether 
the v troub!es caused by his family, in reality, awakened 
this idea in the mind of Henry, or whether it was 
merel/lhe jealous suggestions 01 the restless Eleanor. 

After the death of Henry, when Richard was retained 
is prison by the emperor Henry VI. Eleanor, indig- 
nant at the indifference with which Europe, and the 
pope himself, suffered the hero of the crusades to be op- 
pressed, . wrote to the-latter, and joined the bitterness 
of mafemai complaint to the haughtiness of reproaches : 
but the pope, who had more to fear from the emperor 
than alt the other sovereigns, refused to commit him- 
feif, by interfering in behalf of her son ; and no cardi- 
nal was found who would charge himself with this pe- 


rilous legation : yet, at length, the princes of Europe, 
ashamed of their backwardness in favour of so great a 
warrior, forced the emperor to release him ; on condi- 
tion of receiving a ransom, which Eleanor found it very 
difficult to raise. She had disapproved and repressed, 
as much as she was able, the revolts and misconduct of 
John ; but, on the return of his brother, interceded for 
him, and obtained his pardon. She is supposed to have 
influenced the will of Richard, who appointed him his 
successor, in exclusion of Arthur, the true heir ; and 
doubtless preserved a great ascendant over him, and a 
great part in the government during lus frequent ab- 
sences. This made her favour the claims of John, 
as the continuation of her power appeared more proba- 
ble under her son than her grandson. Arthur had a 
mother not less ambitious than Eleanor, not less ac- 
customed than she was to command in the name of her 
son, and who would no less essentially reign in Eng- 
land than in Brittany, if Arthur had succeeded Rich- 
ard. Eleanor possessed great influence over John also, 
and, as much as in her lay, counteracted his indolence 
and folly, by vigorous measures. In crossing Poitou, 
the young Arthur, who had lost his mother, learned that 
his grandmother Eleanor was in the castle of Mire- 
beau he besieged and took it by assault ; but she had 
time to take refuge in a tower, from whence she found 
means to inform John of her danger, who was then at 
Rouen. This prince awoke in a moment from his 
slumber ; he delivered his mother, and Arthur fell into 
his power. The certain destiny of the latter is unknown ; 
but he disappeared two or three days after the death of 
Eleanor, who had never ceased to be his enemy, but 
who would not have suffered her son to be the execu* 
tioner of her grand-child, 




ELEANOR, 'Maid of Rretagne, 

SISTER of Arthur, the undoubted heiress of the Eng- 
lish crown, and the greatest beauty of her time, wasted 
forty years hi Bristol castle, where she died, in 1241, 
having never been prevailed upon to recede from her 
pretensions to the crown of England. 

ELFLEDA, -eldest Daughter of Alfred the Great, and 
Wife of Lthelred, JSetr/ of Mercia, 

WHOM king Edward, her brother, made gover- 
nor of that province jointly with her. Mercia was 
then greatly infested with the Danes, as well as other 
parts of England, and they were very serviceable to the 
king in his wars with them, especially in making head 
against,, and preventing the, Welsh from coming to 
their aid. 

Eltkda wholly devoted herself to arms; and, like a 
'true Amazon, gave proofs of her courage in all her bro- 
ther's wars with the Daiies. She was generally styled, 
not only Lady and Queen, but King. After the death 
of Ethelred, she took upon her the government of Mer- 
cia, and followed the* example of her father and brother, 
in fortifying towns, to take away from the Danes all 
hopes of settling there again. Afterwards she earned 
her arms against the Welsh, and obliged them to be- 
come her tributaries. In 918 the took from the Danes 
Derby ; and, in 920, Leicester, York, &c. 

ElfU da died during this war with the Danes, leaving 
only one daughter, named Elswina, then marriageable. 
Ingulphus, the historian, says, " that, in respect to the 
cities she built, the castles she fortified , and the armies 
she managed, she might have been thought a man." She 
died at Tamworth, i Staffordshire, and was bujied in 



the porch of the monastery of St. Peter, in Gloucester, 
which she and her husband had built. 

Female Worthies, &c. 

ELIZABETH, Abbess of Schonaugia, in the City O f 
Triers, in the I2tli Century, 

WROTE in Latin many religious books; one entitled, 
A Path to direct us the Way to God, one on 'ike Origin 
of the Name and Invention of the pretended Eleven Thou* 
sand Virgins, and three of Revelations. 

of Henry VI H. by Anne Boleyn, born Sept. 7, 1533, 
died March 24, 1602. 

UPON that king's marriage with Jane Seymour, in 
1535, she was declared illegitimate, with Mary, her half 
sister, and the succession to the crown established on 
the king's issue by this third wife. Her mother, at her 
death, had earnestly recommended her to Dr. Parker, .a 
great reformer, afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, 
who had the care of her education, and appointed 
her such tutors as instructed her well in the principks 
of religion professed by the protestants. 

She learned Latin and Greek, and made so consi- 
derable a progress, not only in those languages, but 
also in French and Italian, that at eleven years of age 
she translated out of French verse into English prose, 
The Mirror, or Glass of the sinful Soul, bhe dedicated 
this to queen Catherine Parr, by an Epistle dated Jrom 
Asheridge, Dec. 2i, 1544. 

When no more than twelve years old, she translated 
from the English tongue, into Latin, French, and Ita- 
lian, Prayers or Meditations, by which the Soul may be 


encouraged to bear with Patience all the Miser ies>qf Life, 
to despise the vain Happiness of this World , and assidu- 
ously provide for eternal Felicity. Collected out of prime 
Writers , by the most noble and 'religious CathGri'iie, Queen 
of En^and. Dedicated by the Princess Elizabeth to 
King Henry Vlll. Dated at Hatfield, Dec. 30, 1545, 
MSS. in the Royal Library at Westminster. About this 
thne she also translated into English, from the French 
original, The Meditations wf Margaret, Queen of Na- 
varre* concerning the Love of her Soul towards Christ. 

What, farther advances she made in literature, Mr. 
Ascham signified in a letter to Sir John Cheke. 4t It 
can scarce be credited," says he, *' to what degree of 
skill in the Latin and Greek she might arrive, if she 
shall proceed in that course of study wherein she hath 
begun by the guidance of Grindal." But she had She 
misfortune to lose this ingenious and learned instructor, 
who. died of the plague in 1548; at which time, as Cam- 
den observes, before she was seventeen years eld, she 
well understood French, Latin, and Italian, Greek indif- 
ferently, and was also skilled in music, both vocal and. 

King F.dward, her brother, wh was fond of her, usually 
caV.ed her his Lady Temper, encouraged her studies, 
and she was no longer apprehensive of her fathers jea- 
lousy in regard to her religious principles, and could 
read such books in divinity as she and her tutors thought 

Her next preceptor was the celebrated Ascham. With 
him she pursued her studies with great ardour, and read 
the best Greek and Latin- historians, philosophers, and 

On the death of Edward, 1553, Mary ascended the 
throne; and having received many testimonies of Eliza- 
beth's esteem, returned her ^ome slight outward forms 
of civil, ty; but the dislike she bore to her, either on ac- 
count of her mother, or her religion, could not be long 
concealed : articles wore devised and drawn up against 


her, and her person, upon- suspicion and surmises only, 
seized and hurried from place to place : she was im- 
prisoned, and most inhumanly treated; but at last, by 
the interposition of Philip, Mary's husband, released 
from imprisonment, and in a measure freed from perse- 
cution the remainder of her sister's life. In gratitude 
for this piece of service, she had his picture placed by 
her bed-side, and kept it there to the end of her life, as 
an acknowledgment of gratitude to her preserver. 

A priest, during her persecution, once pressing her to 
declare her opinion concerning the bodily presence of 
Christ in the sacrament, she cautiously answered him 
in these lines : 

Twa. God the word that spake it, 
He took the bread and brake it, 
And what his word did make it, 
That I believe and take it. 

Mary dying 1558, Elizabeth ascended the throne; and 
when she had settled the perplexed affairs of the king- 
dom, which had given a long interruption to her studies, 
Ascham informs us, that she began 'to renew them under 
his care and inspection, and tells the young gentlemen of 
England, in his Schoolmaster, " It was their shame, that 
one maid should go beyond them all in excellency of 
learning and knowledge of divers tongues. Point forth," 
says he " six of the best given gentlemen of this court, and 1 
all they put together shew not so much good-will, spend 
not so much time, bestow not so many hours daily, or- 
derly, and constantly, for the increase of learning and 
knowledge, as doth the queen's m ijesty herself." Arid 
the famous Scaliger tells us, that she^poke iive languages, 
and knew more than all the great men then living. 

She was truly and substantially learned, having stu- 
died the best ancient as weil as modem authors. The 
confinement and persecutions of her youth afforded scope 
for the acquisition of eminent intellectual attainments. 
How well skilled she was in the Greek, was manifest 



,from her writing a comment on Plato, arid translating 
into Latin a Dialogue of Xenophon, two orations 
of Isocrates, and a play of Euripides. Into English 
she translated Plutarch de Curiositate. Her versions 
from Latin authors w^re, Eoetk ; >i$ > s Consolation 
of Philosophy, Sallnst's Jugnrthine War, and part of 
Horace s Art of Poetry. With her general learning, 
Elizabeth united an uncommon readiness in speaking 
the Latin language, a talent which some very good scho- 
lars do not possess, though it was more frequent in that 
age than -the present, which she displayed in three ora- 
tions; one delivered in the university of "Cam bridge, and 
two in Oxford. An extraordinary instance of her abi- 
lity in this way, /was exhibited in a rapid piece of elo- 
quence with which she interrupted an insolent ambassa- 
dor from Poland. " Having ended her oration, she, 
lion-like, risi-ng," says the historian, " daunted the ma- 
lapert orator no less with her stately port and majestic 
departure, than with the tartness of her princely chekes 
(reproofs) ; and, turning to the train of her attendants, 
said, " God's death/ my Lords! I have been forced 
this day scoiire up my old Latin, that hath long laid rust- 
ing." By her co temporaries, Elizabeth has been highly 
extolled for her poetry, but this must be set down to the 
flattery of the age yet she had a capacity for Latin 

We leave it to the more copious narrator to take no- 
tice of her translations from the French, her prayers and 
meditations, her speeches in parliament, and her letters; 
which last are dispersed in vast numbers through a va- 
riety of collections. Education and interest led her to 
favour the Reformation ; nor could she hesitate on the 
subject but acted with caution, not to alarm the adhe- 
rents to popery by too explicit a declaration of her sen- 
timents, and yet taking care to afford early indications of 
her favourable views to the cause, some of them dis- 
played in a manner pleasing and ingenious. 

At the time of her coronation, when she was solemnly 



conducted through London, a boy, who personated 
Truth, was let .down from one of the triumphal arches, 
and presented her with a copy of the Bible, which she 
received in the most gracious manner, placing it in her 
bosom, and declaring, that amicst all the costly testimo- 
nies which the citizens had that day afforded of their at- 
tachment, this present was by far most precious and ac- 

Elizabeth conciliated all ranks of people by that ame- 
nity of manner which Dr. Robertson calls her flowing 
affability, and secured their confidence by the spirit and 
decision which appeared to influence even those motives 
they did not rightly penetrate. When parliament met, 
she began to take measures for settling her own prero- 
gative, and establishing the protestant faith as the na- 
tional religion. Philip of Spain had offered her his hand, 
but Elizabeth declined the alliance. He espoused Eli- 
zabeth of France, whose queen, the beautiful Mary of 
Scotland, was supposed by catholics to have a better 
claim to the throne than Elizabeth, and had assumed the 
arms of England. A fatal assumption, which was the 
first rise of all those fears and jealousies, which at last 
impelled Elizabeth to an act that will for ever blot her 
memory, and entwined the system of her politics with 
those of Scotland, in which kingdom she was more pow- 
erful than its sovereign, by protecting the protestant lea- 
ders. Cabals about the second marriage of Mary, after 
the death of the king of France, continued for some 
years. This was an important event to Elizabeth, whom 
the former soon wearied with importunities to declare 
her right to the succession, a measure that she felt preg- 
nant with danger and uneasiness to herself, and which 
she could not be persuaded to take. To have chosen a 
husband would have decided the difficulty, and answer- 
ed the" wishes of her people, but many reasons made tier 
averse to the proposal. She was skilful in governing, 
saw the beneficial effects of the system she had adopted, 
and was jealous of any thing that could interfere with 



her authority. A husband might be tempted to snatch 
the reins from her hand, his opposition might impede 
the freedom of her actions, and his passions disconcert 
the system of political wisdom which, by the means of 
Cecil find her other ministers, she had established. Yet 
Elizabeth was by no means indifferent to the homage of 
lovers: the archduke Charles, Eric king of Sweden, the 
duke of Holstein, and when she was more advanced in 
life, the young duke of Aujou, were by turns amused 
and disappointed ; and she distinguished one of her sub- 
jects, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, by a peculiar 
partiality. But Elizabeth, amidst the weakness of va- 
nity, and individual preference, still preserved her under- 
standing uninfluenced. When the great Sully, who 
came as ambassador from Henry I V . conversed with her 
on the situation of affairs in Europe, he was lost in asto- 
nishment to hear her speak with such perspicuity, 
promptness, and discernment, and was then convinced 
that she herself was the source whence the energy of her 
government was derived, and found that she had a per- 
fect knowledge of the political interests of the different 
European powers, of their respective strength, their re- 
lative situation, and internal resources, from whence she 
\vasenabled to judge of their means of attack and de- 
fence, lie found, that although she had never con- 
ferred with Henry the Fourth, they both entertained the 
same design of forming a new political system, and laid 
the same plan of establishing a balance of power to 
check the aggrandizement of the house of Austria. We 
see no wild projects in the views of Elizabeth : her am- 
bition was great, but it was also consistent. 

That able politician, whom Elizabeth used to say 
was a princely, -.ind not a pries'dy pope, Sixtus V. pla- 
ced her among tue three persons who alone, in his opi- 
nion, deserved to reign; the other two were himself and 
Henry IV. of France. 

The hope of the protestants throughout Europe, Eli- 
zabeth felt that all persecutions of them militated against 



her own power. She protected the inhabitants of the 
Low Countries, who fled from the severities of the Duke 
of Alva, their Spanish governor, and in return, their 
skill in manufactures opened a way for a further influx 
of riches to England. She held her rival, Mary, queen 
of Scots, in confinement; and though the spirit and ad- 
dress of that unfortunate princess, and the activity of her 
adherents, were continually exercised in plots for her 
deliverance, which sometimes threatened Elizabeth with 
personal danger, she kept her own kingdom in peace and 
safety amidst the copvuisions of a tumultuous period. 
The massacre of the Huguenots on St. Bartholomew's 
Day, filled her with alarm and sorrow. She had a 
powerful enemy in the king of Spain, but ventured to 
brave him by assisting his Flemish subjects with mo- 
ney and troops, though she declined an offer they made 
of acknowledging her as their sovereign. 

The pope (who had succeeded Sextus), with the 
powerful house of Guise, and Philip, were continually 
the source of danger to Elizabeth. Encouragement, and 
offers of protection from the two latter, and an idea 
which was then common even with the pious, that any 
heretic who was so declaredly under the displeasure of 
the-former, should be considered as a wretch whom it 
was meritorious to extirpate, induced several to plan the 
assassination of the queen. The vigilance of her minis- 
ters discovered and defeated their plots : but the nation 
began to be anxious for the safety of their beloved sove- 
reign, whose patriotic economy had secured them from 
burthensome taxations, whose safety was so intimately 
connected with their religious security, and whose con- 
cern for them had tempted her to break off a marriage 
with the prince of Anjou, to which she' had manifested 
an inclination. These fears were encouraged in the peo- 
ple, arid facilitated the death of the queen of Scots, on 
whose account the plots were laid, which endangered 
her enemy. It seems that Elizabeth, when Mary was 
first imprisoned by her subjects, meant to serve and 



protect her, which appeared by many spirited and ear- 
nest remonstrances through her ambassador. When 
Mary made her escape, and fled into England, she was 
still in the same way of thinking, and happy had it been 
for her fame had she persisted in acting from that prin- 
ciple ; but her ministers saw danger in her favouring the 
head of the ca holic party, one who had claimed a supe- 
rior right to the throne of England, and who was the 
next heir. Elizabeth was startled and convinced, her 
temporary generosity vanished, and former jealousies re- 
sumed their dominion over her mind. She confined her 
as a prisoner, under the pretence that till she was cleared 
of the crimes her rebellious subjects alledged against 
her, she could not be admitted into her presence ; and 
led her on by insidious pretences to submit her case to 
the decision of the laws, favouring her enemies, till the 
injuries heaped upon the unhappy queen rendered it un- 
safe to act more generously towards her : her life re;itly 
began to be dangerous to Elizabeth, and it was there- 
fore sacrificed at the block, in contradiction to every 
principle of generous hospitality and justice. 

Yet while the eye turns disgusted from the ungene- 
rous policy and dissimulation of Elizabeth, it sees, with 
admiration, her undaunted courage and conduct at the 
apprehended attacks by sea and land o her enemy, Phi- 
lip of Spain, who made such preparations for the over- 
throw of England as Europe had never before witnes- 
sed. Seconded by the chearful alacrity of her subjects, 
the inadequate preparations her country could at that 
time afford against his immense force was diligently 
p reared. She engaged the aid or connivance of all the 
protestant states and towns, and the liberal spirit of to- 
leration which regulated her behaviour to her catho- 
lic subjects, made them also forget religious prejudices, 
and join heartily in defence of their country. 

When the Invincible Armada was upon the seas, and 
in daily expectation of landing, she went to her camp 
at Tilbury, rode through ail the squadrons of her army, 



and addressed them in a patriotic oration, in which she 
declared the confidence she placed m tier people, that 
she was ready to ave or die with them, and raised their 
emulation by the display of her own fortitude. 

The entire discomticure and destruction of 'these im- 
mense preparations, fined the English with joy, and 
made their sovereign stiii more dear to them. The power 
and riches or Spain, which by this blow suffered great 
diminution, was still lartiier towered by successful naval 
attacks; and England gained the importance which 
that kingdom io^t. 

After the death of the earl of Leicester, Elizabeth had 
much distinguished the eari of Essex, a brave and 
learned, but impetuous young man, whose mistakes 
and mal-administration in Ireland, occasioned her dis- 
pleasure, and whose passions afterwards hurried him - 
into a rebellion. The queen could not surfer herself 
to sign his sentence, till persuaded that he disdained 
all application to her mercy, and even then did it with 
reluctance and sorrow. Public affairs soon occupied 
again her active mind ; nor till she found that she had 
been cruelly deceived in this respect, did the memory 
of Essex seem to cast a cloud over her happiness : 
but the countess of Nottingham, to whom he had de- 
livered a ring once received from the hands of Eliza- 
beth, as a token of high favour and promised protec- 
tion against his enemies, confessed on her death-bed, 
that he had besought her to deliver it to the queen, and 
implore her pardon ; but that her husband, who was 
his bitter enemy, had persuaded her to keep it. 

Elizabeth, though constant to her friends, and grate* 
fui for every manifestation or attachment, by her wil- 
lingness to overlook injuries which her susceptibility and 
pride made her feel most keenly, had often fully shewn 
how little she experienced the comfort of sincere and 
consistent regard. 'This appeal to her kindness, though 
from one who had forfeited all claims, struck her with 
horror and remorse. * God may forgive you," cried 



she, in the agony of her soul, " but I never can.*' 
This blow was very deeply felt ; and the discovery she 
at that time made, that her confidential servants, in ex- 
pectation of her death, were corresponding with her 
successor, sickened her heart. She had lost much of 
her popularity since the death of Essex, and feelingly 
complained that her people no longer loved her, anfl 
why should she wish to live ? A deep melancholy 
took possession of her senses ; she almost abstained from 
food ; and, during the fortnight that preceded her dis- 
solution, sat upon the floor with hef finger in her 
mouth, in the last stage of bitter despondence, attend- 
ing to nothing but the prayers of the archbishop of Caii- 
terburyi to whom she listened with the deepest atten- 
tion, till a few hours before her death. She had named 
James, king of Scotland, her successor, who honoured 
her memory with a magnificent monument in West- 
minster abbey. She lived 70 years, and reigned 44. 

Jealous of any encroachments upon her prerogative, 
Elizabeth appears to have really loved her subjects : 
affable, frugal, moderate, and skilled when to assert 
- and when to yield what she considered as her rights : 
she maintained equally the command and affection of 
the Englishman and the respect of foreign powers. 
Her personal .vanity was the greatest weakness of her 
character; but, when young, she was considered as 
handsome. Her complexion was very fair, and her hair 
of a reddish hue*. 

Female Worthies. Hist, of England, &c. 

* She was called : 

Spain's rod, Rome's ruinc, Netherlands' reliefe, 

Earth's joy, England's gem, World's wonder, Nature's chiefe.. 



ELPIS, a Lady of the Fifth Century, descended from 
one of the most considerable Families *bf Messina, and 
first Wife of the celebrated Bvethius, 

LIKE her husband, was devoted to science, and 
shared his literary labours with him. She examined 
passages and transcribed quotations. The same genius, 
the same inclinations, and the same ardour, eminently 
appeared in both. Far from drawing him from his studies, 
she was sedulous to animate him, when he grew languid 
in them. In her all the accomplishments of the head and 
the heart were united. She had a iine taste in literature, 
particularly in poetry, and was a shining example of 
every virtue ; so that she must have been a delightful 
companion to this eminent philosopher and statesman. 
Indeed, each are said to have thought their destinies 
equally enviable. 

She had the happiness of seeing her two sons, Patri- 
tius and Hypatius, raised to the consular dignity, which 
their father had also several times enjoyed, but died be-, 
fore any of the 4atter's misfortunes had befallen him. 
After the death of this beloved wife,- Boetius married 
again, and is said to have been equally fortunate in his 
second choice. 

Ridpath, and Curiosities of Literature. 

ELSTOB, (ELIZABETH) famous for her Knowledge . 

in the Saxon Lang'iage; born at Newcastle-upon-* 

Tyne, 1683 ; 

VERY early in life discovered a great propensity 
to study. Her understanding appears to have been of 
that slow but steady progressive species, which often 
outstrips genius itself in the race of literature. Her 
mother dying when she was only eight years old, she 
was committed to the care of Dr. Charles Elstob, ca- 
non of Canterbury, She afterwards lived with her bro- 

' P ther, 


ther, who encouraged and assisted her in her Saxon 
studies; buf, after his death, was obliged, for sup- 
port, to keep a small day school at Evesham, with 
great advantage, doubtless, to her scholars, hut with 
little emolument to herself. Some faint traces of her 
memory still remain among the inhabitants ; and it is 
remembered that her weekly stipend with each pupil 
was, at first, only a groat. 

What brought her to exercise this employment at 
Evesham is not, I believe, now known. After some 
years of laborious and obscure drudgery in it, she at- 
tracted the notice of Mr. George Baliard, of,Campden, 
and several other persons of greater consideration ; v, ho 
raised for her, among themselves, an annuity of twenty- 
pounds per annum. By degrees, her merit became 
known to the late duchess of Portland, who received her 
into her family, allowed her thirty pounds a year for 
instructing her children, and procured a small pension 
for her from queen Caroline. In this family she ditd, 
1767, and was buried at St. Margaret* 8, Westminster. 
Her works published and unpublished are ; A Transla- 
tion of Madam Scudery's Essay on Glory. Translations 
of , and Notes on, a Saxon Homily on the Birth of St. Gre- 
gory , published by her brother ; Rudiments of Grammarfor 
the English-Saxon Tongue, 4 to. 171-7. A M.S. Transla- 
tion of all JElfric's Homilies. An exact Transcript of the 
Sextns Roffensis with some Saxon Hymns, from ancient 
.M.S. belonging to Salisbury cathedral. A Saxon Ho- 
Miloriwnwas by her undertaken, on the encouragement 
cii Dr. Hickes, to which were to be added, an English 
Translation, and various Readings. Five of these Ho- 
milies were afterwards printed, in folio, at Oxford. 
A Transcript of the Saxon M.S. of the Athanasian Creed, 
printed in Wotton's View of Hickes's Thesaurus, 1708. 
An Account of the Plan for rendering the River Avon 
navigable, which was long handed about i M.S. and 
lately given to the public by Dr. Nash, is said to be 
-written by her, in the year 1737* 



She is also reported to have left behind her a regular 
plan of Evesham abbey. Much merit is certainly due 
to this lady ; the first female to whom the study of 
the Saxon language has offered a curious and laudable 

Hist, and Antiquities, &c. ef Evesham. 

EMMA, Daughter of Richard II. Duke of Normandy, 
Wife of Ethelred and Canute, Mother of Edward the 
Confessor , Kings of England. 

ON the deposition of Ethelred, she sent their sons, 
Alfred and Edward, to Normandy; and Canute, who 
was jealous of the protection afforded them, to pre- 
vent their uncle's taking any steps in their favour, 
gave him his sister in marriage, and espoused Em- 
ma himself, by contract, securing to the children he 
should have by her the succession to the crown of Eng- 
land. Thus setting aside, not only the elder children 
of Ethelred, but likewise those he had had by Emma ; 
who never forgave their mother for having thus sold 
them to the enemy of their father. 

Canute had a son by her, named Hardicanute, who 
being also left king of Denmark, was absent from Eng- 
land at the time of his father's death ; and a large 
party being favourable to his half brother Harold , Em- 
ma, who was appointed regent, andrgiven earl Godwin, 
for counsel, found it very difficult to keep the crown, 
for him, as her coadjutor was secretly the friend 
of Harold. Seeing that Hardicanute did not appear, 
she proposed sending to Normandy for the sons oif 
Ethelred, alledging only the natural desire of a mo- 
ther to see those children from whom she had so Ion* 
been separated. But Godwin saw clearly that the 
views and hope of Emma were to rekindle, by their 
presence, the love of the English for their ancient race 

p of 


of monarchs, and to secure them the crown, if her 
youngest son would not quit Denmark : he, however, 
craftily applauaecl h^r design, and facilitated its execu- 
tion ; that he might immoiate to Harold those important 
victims. But Emma, though unsuspicious of his perfidy, 
had the distrust of a mother. She never sutiered the two 
princes to visit Godwin together, keeping oue 01 them 
constantly under her own eye ; and only permitting the 
other to leave her under the escort of the laithful Aor- 
mans they had brought over with them. Godwin, not 
being able to destroy both, sacrificed the eldest; and 
Emma secretly sent back Edward to. his asylum in 
Normandy. Godwin, furious at being disappointed, 
accused her of treason, and had credit euouak 'to ba- 
nish her the kingdom. Hardicanute, at length, came 
over, and all parties united under him, during his short 
reign ; when Edward the Confessor ascended the 

Emma, who was a woman of abilities, had so 
great a share of the .government and so much credit 
at court, that the earl of Kent, who had enjoyed a great 
authority in preceding reigns, grew jealous of ben 
He charged her with several crimes, and the king, 
who was easily imposed upon, believed her guilty ; 
went suddenly to Winchester, the place of her resi- 
dence, deprived her of all her treasures, a^nd reduced 
her to the greatest poverty, so that she almost died of 

In this condition, she had recourse to the bishop of 
Winchester, to whom she was related ; but this fur- 
nished her enemies with a new handle for calumny : 
and it was determined she should submit to the trial of 
the fire-ordeal, in which she came off unhurt. And 
king Edward fell on his knees before his mother, beg- 
ged" her pardon, and submitted to be scourged by the 
bishop, as a penitent. 

Rapin, however, says, that she spent the las.t ten 
years of her life in misery, in a kind of prison at Win- 
chester ; 


Chester ; from whence she was not delivered but by 
death, in the year 10/> C 2. 

Ritalite de la France et de TAnglsterre, &e. 


A REMARKABLE fine' peuwoman in the reign of .queen 
Elizabeth and James. Some of her performances are 
still extant in several coliecrjons. One of them is very 
curious, it is intituled, Octonaries upon the Vanity and 
Inconstancy of the World ; written by Esther Inglis, the 
first of January, 1600 : it is done on an oblong 8vo. in 
French and English verse : the French in print hand, 
and the English in Italic, or secretary; and is orna- 
mented with flowers and fruits, painted in water colours, 
and, on the first leaf, is her own picture, in a small 
frame. At the age of forty, she married a Mr. Kelio, 
by whom she had a son, who was in orders. From one 
of her pieces, it appears that bishop Hall, of Norwich, 
was her particular friend. 

Gen. Biog. Diet. 

ENNETIERES, (MARY DE) a learned Lady of 
Tournay, in the sixteenth Century, 

PUBLISHED many works, particularly an Epistle 
against Turks, Jews, Lutherans, &c. printed in 1539. 

ERINNA, of the Isle of Telos ; flourished in the Time 

of Dion, of Syracuse ; 

PUBLISHED an excellent poem, in the Doric tongue, 
comprised in 300 verses. Her style was said to come 
near the majesty of Homer. She' died, at 19 years of 
age. She wrote besides several pieces ; a few fragments 
of which may be seen in the* Carolina ncvem Poetarum 
Foeminarum. Antwerp, 15G8, Svo. 

P 3 ESPI- 


A SENSIBLE female writer of France, in the last cen- 
tury, on The Education of young Ladies, and an Abridge- 
ment of French History. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. 

ESTH ER , Wife of Artaxerxes Longimanus. 

WHILE the whole nation of the Jews were in capti- 
vity, far from their native country, the wife of the so- 
vereign had offended him, by refusing to appear before 
strangers at a feast, when he demanded her presence : 
and the king, having once divorced her, could not recal 
his decree, though desirous of so doing ; he was counselled 
to assemble the most beautiful women throughout his 
dominions, out of which he might choose his future 
queen. He accordingly did so, and fixed on Esther, 
an orphan, of the tribe of Benjamin, who was brought 
up by an uncle, one of the principal men among the 
Jews. She was exceedingly beautiful ; and messengers 
were dispatched unto eveiy nation in that wide mo- 
narchy, to ordain a general rejoicing ; while the king 
feasted the chief persons of the Mcdes and Persians, a 
whole month, on account of his marriage. 

Esther was brought to the royal palace, and a diadem 
placed upon her head, without the king's knowing what 
country she was of. Her uncle, Mordecai, with whom 
she had been brought up, removed from Babylon to 
Shushan, being every day about the palace, that lie 
might behold his niece, whom he loved as a daughter. 
An Amalekite, who, from his nation, was enemy to the 
Jews, and bore personal hatred to Mordecai, was in great 
favour with the king ; and, by slandering that people as 
vile and seditious, persuaded him that it would beau, 
act of policy to extirpate them, and in the end be bene- 
ficial to the state. 

Accordingly a decree was given, and a day fixed for 



this purpose. Mordecai sent a copy of the proclama- 
tion to Esther, and besought her to petition the king. 
She sent him word, that unless her presence wits de- 
manded, it was death for her to present herself before 
him, guards always standing on each side ot the throne, 
with axes to cut clown such intruders : but desired him 
to gather all the Jews at Shushan together, and to fast 
with them ; she and her maidens would do die same ; 
and thus she would go to the king. She, accordingly, 
put on mourning garments, cast herself upon the earth, 
]>rayed and fasted three days ; at the end of which, 
she changed her habit, attired herself in rich robes, 
and, attended by two -maids, who held her train, went, 
with fear and confusion, into the presence of the king. 
But, on his looking on her with some sternness and sur- 
prise, she fainted ; on which he leaped from his throne 
and took her in his arms, bidding her be of good cheer, 
as that law was made only for subjects, and not for a 
queen. But her spirits were too much flattened to al- 
low her to enter on the subject she intended : and 
though he assured he.. would grant her request to the 
half of his kingdom, she delayed declaring herself, and 
only asked him, together with Haman, the Amalekite, 
to a banquet the next day. Even then she put it oft", 
asked them a second time; and then when the king 
wished her to name the request, she told him of the 
plot to destroy herseifand her nation, and named Ha- 
inan as the author of it. The king was, at first, in 
some disorder on hearing his favourite accused ; but, 
persuaded of his vileness, he commanded him to be 
hung upon a gallows he had that day erected lor Mor- 
decai : and, as he could not revoke a decree, which, 
having once passed, the laws of Persia rendered irrevo- 
cable, he passed another, to encourage the Jews to de- 
fend themselves and slay their enemies, of which 
75,800, chiefly Amalekites, perished that day; which 
was commemorated among the Jews, by an annual 
feast, culled Purim. Mordecai became a considerable 
P 4 person 


. i A 

person at court, and the influence of Esther considera- 
bly bettered the state of the Jews. 

Antiquities of the Jews. 


THE mother of mankind, who suffering herself to be 
seduced by the evil spirit, to transgress an express 
command of her Maker, by eating of the forbidden 
fruit, which she likewise presented to her husband, was 
Condemned to be in subjection to the latter, and to 
suffer pain in childbirth. 


A ROMAN lady of great learning and piety ; a disciple 
of St. Jerom, whom she followed in his travels through 
Syria, Palestine, and Egypt, to visit places celebrated 
in the Scriptures. She became a nun at Bethlehem, and 
died 41D. 



AUTHOK of several pious meditations and proverbs, 
in the English language, which were printed by Ro- 
bert Crowiand, with this title, The Lady Elizabeth 
Fane's Twenty-one Psalms, and One hundred and two 
Proverbs. London, 1550, 

Who this lady was is not easy to ascertain. By the 
title given her, one would suppose her to be an earl's 
daughter : but it does not appear from Dugdale, Collins, 
nor any other who have given the peerage of the Fane 
family, that there was, or indeed could be, any such 
lady in it, near the time she is supposed to have lived. 
She was therefore, very probably, either the wife of 
Richard Fane, who married Elizabeth, the daughter and 



heir of Stidolph, living in the latter end of the reign 
of Henry VIII. or of Sir Thomas Fane, who was engaged 
in Wyatt's rebellion in the first year of queen Mary. 

Female Worthies. 


AN illustrious Roman lady, daughter of Petus 
Thrasea, and grand-daughter of Arria, twice attended 
her husband Helvidius into banishment, and was her- 
self afterwards banished for his sake, that is, because 
she had desired Senecio to write her husband's life, and 
furnished him with materials for doing it ; which she 
boldly confessed before her judges, denying only that N 
her mother knew it. This happened under the empe- 
ror Domitian. The greatness of her soul was attended 
with such a sweet and agreeable temper, that she was 
as much loved as respected. 

Piiny relates, that the priests appointing some ladies 
to take care of the vestal virgins, who, by sickness, were 
obliged to leave their convent, Fanma paid so much at- 
tention to one of them, her relation, that she fell ill herself. 


in the eighteenth Century' 

WHETHER Mrs. Thicknesse means that she was a 
nun, I know not ; but she says, " who for ten years 
ha(\ been under the cover of a veil in a monastery, in 
which time her good sense having pointed out the ab- 
surdities of such a life, she quitted it, and resided at 
Paris," where she published many ingenious works : 
her best, La Triomphe de VAmitie, was written in the 
convent ; others are, Contes de kt Sermil, translated 
from the Turkish ; La derniere des Gtieres-Betes, a 
fable ; and Abassai, an oriental romance. 

F, c. 



la) Daughter of the Count d'Ay?nar, Field- Marshal 
and Governor of Havre de Grace. 

THIS lady, who was in the service of Henrietta, 
daughter of Charles I. of England, wife of the duke 
of Orleans ; was one of the ornaments of the reign of 
Lewis XIV. and highly esteemed at court. She was uni- 
versally respected by men of letters, and corresponded 
with the most learned of them, particularly the famous 
Huet, bishop of Avranches. Her modesty was equal to 
her other amiable qualities, for she wrote many things 
which were greatly admired, and permitted others to 
have the credit of them. 

The elegance of her style, her taste, her refined sen- 
timents ; but, above all, her adhering so closely to na- 
ture, render it impossible to read her romances, with- 
out being deeply interested. Voltaire says, " she was 
the first who ever composed one in which the characters 
appear natural, and not either over-rated, or such as in- 
troduced incidents, in which the most glaring absurdi- 
ties and improbabilities were conspicuous ; as if the 
only end of the writers of such works is to raise wonder 
and amazement, instead of drawing a true picture of 
human nature." 

The works of this lady are ranked with the first of 
the kind in the P'rench language. The principal are, 
Zaidc ; la Princesse de Clei'e ; la Princesse de Mont- 
vensier. They are almost the only romances of that pe- 
riod which are still read with pleasure. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. F. C. 


A SPANISH poetess, much esteemed by Lope de Vega, 
who was well skilled in rhetoric, philosophy, and ma- 

Father Feejoo. 



FERRAR A, (RENATA, Duchess of J famous for herVir- 
tuesand Attachment to the Reformed Church; Daughter 
of Lewis XH. and Anne of Brittany. Born at Blois, 
1510, died at Montargis, 1575. 

IN 1527, was married to Hercules d'Este, the second 
of that name, duke of Ferrara and Modena. M. Va- 
rillas assures us, that she was mistress of immense eru- 
dition, that she excelled in all parts of the mathema- 
tics, but especially in astronomy; but what he says of 
Calvin's journey to that princess's court, after having 
converted her from popery, seems at least doubtful, if 
not false ; because there are authors who mention that 
event before Calvin went thither. 

In the year 1559, her husband died ; and, in 1560, 
she left Italy on account of her religion, and returned to 
France, where she was permitted to profess Hugonot- 
ism. She resided at Montargis, and there gave protec- 
tion to as many as were persecuted, till she was obliged 
to do so no longer. It was with much regret that she 
yielded to so rigorous a restraint ; and, if her courage 
appeared on this occasion, her charity was no less con- 
spicuous ; for, during the troubles in France, she fed 
and maintained a great number of protestants in her 
castle, who had fled to her for refuge. She interceded 
strongly for the prince of Conde, when he was impri- 
soned at Orleans in the time of the young king Francis ; 
but afterwards was displeased with him, because neither 
she nor her ministers approved the protestants taking up 

Female Worthies. ' 

FIDELIS (CASSANDRA), a Venetian Lady, D!*d" 
1558, aged 100. 

DESCENDED from ancestors who had changed their 
residence from Milan to Venice, and had uniformly 
added to the respectability of their rank by their un- 



common learning, she began at an early age to prose- 
cute her studies with great diligence, and acquired such 
a knowledge of the learned languages, that she may 
with justice be enumerated among the first scholars 
of the age. 

The letters which occasionally passed between Cas- 
sandra and Politian, demonstrate their mutual esteem, 
if indeed such an expression be sufficient to characterize 
the feelings of Politian, who expresses, in language un- 
usually florid, his high admiration of her extraordinary 
acquirements, and his expectation of the benefits which 
the cause of letters would derive from her labours and 
example. In the year 1491, the Florentine scholar 
made a visit to Venice, where the favourable opinion he v 
had formed of her writings was confirmed by a personal 

" Yesterday,'* says he, writing to his great patron 
Lorenzo de Medicis, " I paid a visit to the celebrated 
Cassandra, to whom I presented your respects. She is 
indeed, Lorenzo, a surprizing woman, as well from her 
acquirements in her own language, as in the Latin ; and, 
in my opinion, she may be called handsome. I left 
her, astonished at her talents. She is much devoted to 
your interest, and speaks of you with great esteem. She 
even avows her intention of visiting you at Florence, so 
that you may prepare yourself to give her a proper re- 

From a letter of this lady's many years afterwards to 
Leo X. we learn, that an epistolary correspondence had 
subsisted between her and Lorenzo de Medicis ; and it 
is with concern we find, that the remembrance of this 
intercourse was revived, in order to induce the pontiff to 
bestow upon her some pecuniary assistance, she being 
then tf widow, with a numerous train of dependants. 
She lived, however, to a far more advanced period, and 
her literary acquirements, and the reputation of her early 
associates, threw a lustre over her declining years; and, 
$s her memory remained unimpaired to the last, she was 



resorted to from all parts of Italy as a living monument 
of those happier days to which the Italians never revert- 
ed without regret. The letters and orations of this lady 
were published at Pavia in 163(), with some account of 
her lite. She wrote a volume of Latin poems also, on 
various subjects. 

She is thus spoken of by M. Thomas, in his Essay on 
Women : 

" One of the most learned women in Italy, who wrote 
equally well in the three languages of Homer, Virgil, 
and Dante, in verse and in prose; who possessed all the 
philosophy of her o\vn and the preceding ages; who, by 
her graces, embellished even theology; sustained the- 
sises with eclat, and many times gave public lessons at 
Padua; who joined to her serious knowledge agreeable 
talents, particularly music, and exalted her talents by 
her virtue. She received homage from sovereign pon- 
tiffs and kings ; and, that every thing relating to her 
might be singular, lived more than a century." 

. Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo de Medicis, &c. 

FIELDING (SARAH), Half -Sister to the famous No- 
vellist of that Name, who encouraged her in her lite- 
rary Pursuits, 

WROTE several works, which possessed wit, inven- 
tion, and originality ; amongst others, David Simple ; 
OpJielia. A work on Education ; a translation of Xeno- 
ph ns Memorabilia ; the Lires of Cleopatra and Oc- 
tavia, and a dramat'C novel called the Cry. Her brother- 
wrote a preface to tiie first, in which he exalts her power 
of delineating character, by comparing her to Shake- 
spear, and praises her amiable qualities. 

FISHER, (MARY) a Quaker of the last Century, ' 
Wiio formed the project of visiting Constantinople, 
to convert the grand seignior. On her arrival at 
Smyrna, the English consul sent her to Venice. She 



then went all the way by land, and actually appeared 
before the sultan Mahomet IV. who heard her patiently, 
and then, supposing her to be mad, caused her to be 
gent back to her own country, where she married a 
preacher of the same sect. This couple afterwards went 
into Languedoc, to preach the tenets of quakerism 
among the protestants of that province. 

F. C. & c . 

FLEURS (PHILIBERTEDE), a Poetess of Tours in 
the I6ttt Century. 

FOIX (MARGARET DE), Duchess d'Epernon. 

IN 1588, the chiefs of the League determining to ruin 
the duke d'Eperaon, rendered him suspected at court, 
and obtained an order to take him from the castle of 
Angouleme, of which he was governor. The magistrate 
charged with the execution of this act, to obtain his 
purpose in forcing the duke to surrender, seized the du- 
-ehess, and conducted her to the principal gate of the ci- 
tadel, in order that she might entreat him to acquiesce, 
or that her danger might lead him to submit. 

Careless of their threats, she exhorted her husband 
to persevere in defending himself; declaring, that if he 
yielded on her account, it would occasion his death, and 
she was determined not, to survive him whom she loved 
more than life itself. The magistrate, astonished at her 
courage, deliberated what to do, when she was rescued 
from them, and re-entered the castle in triumph to her 
husband, who received her with transports of joy. 

F. C. 

FONT ANA (LAVINiA), an Italian Painter and Sta- 
tuary of great Excel fence, Daughter and Disc pie of 
Prospero, a Painter at Bohgna. Born 1552 

colouring was so soft and sweet, that she was 



much sought after to draw portraits of ladies. After 
having worked in public and private, she went to Rome, 
where she served Gregory XIII. and the noble family of 
Boncompagni, who all protected and encouraged her. 
Amongst other paintings, she made one of the Stoning 
of St. Stephen, with figures larger than life, which was 
placed in the church of St. Paul, in the environs of Rome, 
where she died at the age of fifty, celebrated by orators 
and poets. She is said, in statuary, to have surpassed 
even the famous Propertia de Rossi. 

Abecedario Pittorico, Father Feejoo. 

ike Marquis de Givri, Commander of Metz, and Wife 
of the Count de Fontaines, by whom she had two Chil- 
dren. Died 1748. 

WAS the author of two little romances, Amenophis, 
and La Comte$se de Savoyc, which have much merit, 
and were highly praised by Voltaire, whom they fur- 
nished with subjects for two of his most celebrated tra- 
gedies, Artemise aad Tancred. 

Mrs. Thicknessc. 

FONTAINE (JANE DE LA). Died 1536. 
JLa Theseide de Boccace was translated into French 
verse by this lady. It was never printed, but is applaud- 
ed by JoannusSecundus. 

Wharton's History of English Poetry. 

FONTAINE (MADAME DE LA), Wife of the cele- 
brated French Poet, 

WAS a woman of taste and knowledge, and corrected 
the works of her husband before they were published. 




LA), born in Guienne, 1650, died at Paris, 1724; 

HAS given many works to the public, full of senti- 
ment and imagination, chiefly romances, which are 
written in a plesant stile, Histoire de Marguerite de Va- 
lois, De Gustave Vasa t De Bourgogne, De la Duchesse 
de Bar, Sceur de Henry IV. Les Fees, Conte de Contes 9 
and many pieces of poetry. 

F. c. &c. 

FREDEGONDA, Married A. D. 566, to Chilperic I. 
King of Part of France, suspected of the Murder of 
His first Wife. After her Husband's death, became Re- 
gent during the minority of Clotaire II. 

A VILE character, infamous for her amours and her 
cruelties, possessed the regal power many years. A 
crown, procured to her at first by her charms, was pre- 
served by the strength of her genius. She had governed 
during Clotahe's minority with consummate policy, had 
Tendered her regency illustrious by victories, and had 
conquered and secured Paris to her son. All these at- 
chievements are unequivocal proofs of vigour and talent, 
and almost made her subjects forget that she was ambi- 
tious, cruel, vindictive; that she had sacrificed to her 
ambition or safety, one great king, two virtuous queens, 
two heirs apparent to the throne, and an infinite num* 
her of inferior quality. In this moment of triumph, 
when her arms were crowned with victory, God called 
her hence, as if apprehensive the enormity of her crimes 
would by unthinking mortals be sunk in the splendor of 
her exploits. 

Gifford's France. 

FRITIGTLA, became famous, A. D- 396. 
QUEEN of the Marcomans, being instructed in chris- 
tiam'ty by the writings ot Ambrose, embraced it her- 


self, and by her influence, occasioned her husband and 
the whole nation to do the same. By her persuasion, 
they entered into a durable alliance with the Romans ; 
so that, in the various irruptions of the barbarians on the 
empire, the Marcomans are never mentioned by histo- 
rians, though only separated by the Danube. 

Gifford's France. 

FULVIA, Wife to Marc Antony, who had married twice 
before', first to Chdius, the great enemy of Cicero ; se- 
condly to Curio, who was killed in Africa, fighting on 
Ccesars side, before the Battle of Pharsaiia. 
AFTER the victory gained at Philippi by Octavius 
and Antony, the latter went into Asia to settle the affairs 
of the east, and Octavius returned to Rome, where, 
happening to quarrel with Fulvia, she took arms against 
him ; and was not satisfied with retiring to Praeneste, and 
drawing thither the knights and senators of her party, 
but armed herself in person, gave the word to the sol- 
diers, and harangued them. 

" She was a woman," says Plutarch, te not born for 
spinning or house wifry, nor one that could be content 
with the power of ruling a private husband ; but a lady 
capable of advising a magistrate, and of ruling the gene- 
ral of an army, so that Cleopatra had great obligations 
to her, for having taught Antony to be obedient." An- 
tony, however, upbraided her so bitterly for entering 
into this war, that she went into Greece, where she 
contracted a disease through the violence of her anger, 
of which she died. During the massacres committed by 
the triumvirate on the great and leading men of the city, 
in which her husband was a principal actor, Fulvia as- 
sisted him to the utmost of her power. She pat seve- 
ral persons to d^ath of her own accord, to gratify either 
her avarice or revenge. Antony caused the heads of the 
principal to be set on a table before him, that he might 
feast his eyes with the sight. Amongst them was that 



of Cicero, which he ordered to be fixed on the ros- 
trum, where that great orator had so often gloriously 
defended his country; but first, Fulvia took the head, 
spat upon it, and placing it on her lap, drew out the 
tongue, which she pierced several times with her bodkin, 
uttering all the while, the most opprobrious and reviling 
language. " Behold," says Mr. Bay le, "a woman of 
a strange species. There are some villains whom we are 
almost forced to admire, because they shew a certain 
greatness of soul in their crimes; here is nothing to be 
seen but brutality, baseness, and cowardice, and one can- 
not help conceiving an indignation full of contempt. " 

Fcrhale Worthies. 


GAILLARDE (JANE) a Poetess of Lyons in the 16th 

GALERIA, IVifeofViteUius, Emperor of Rome, 

DISTINGUISHED herself in a vicious age by exemplary 
wisdom and modesty. After the tragical death of her 
husband, she passed her days in mourning and retire- 


GALLI (MARIA ORIANA), a Female Painter of re- 

DAUGHTER and disciple of Gio. Maria Galli, common- 
ly called Bibiena. 

Abecedario Pittorico. 

GALLIGAI (LEONORA), Daughter of a Joiner at 
Florence, and of the Nurse of Man/ de Medicls. Died 

THAT princess loving her tenderly, took her into 



France in 1603, when she went thither to be married to 
Henry IV. she was made her .bedchamber-woman, and 
governed her just as she pleased Extremely ugly, but 
possessed of a great deal of wit and artifice, she married 
Concino Concini, after > -arris mamhal d'Ancre, who was 
also a native of Florence, and came into France with 
Mary de Medicis. He was at first only gentleman in 
ordinary to that princess, but afterwards, by means of 
his wife, raised himself to great honours. They agreed 
in fomenting the discord between the king and 'queen, 
and their artifices were the causes of the domestic jars 
which embittered the life of Henry. After the death of 
that prince, they found it still more easy to govern their 
mistress ; and were so puffed up with pride, that 
Leonora would not allow the princes, princesses, and 
greatest lords of the kingdom, to come into their cham- 
ber, or suffer any one to look at her, saying, " that peo- 
ple frightened her when they stared upon her, and that 
they might bewitch her by looking in her face." Soon 
after the death of Henry IV. their power and arrogance 
grew more and more excessive, till Lewis XIII. com- 
missioned a captain of the guards to dispatch Concini in 
1517- The day after his burial, his body was torn out 
of his grave by the mob, who used it in the most igno- 
minious manner. 

Leonora received the news of her husband's catastro- 
phe in a manner which shewed them to be more united 
by interest than affection. She did not shed a tear, and 
her first care was to secure her jew r els; for which pur- 
pose she put them into the netting of her bed, and 
causing herself to be undressed, got in it; but the pro- 
vost's men, who went into her chamber to search for 
them, made her get up, and found them. After 
which, she said to those who guarded her, " Well, 
they have killed my husband, does not that satisfy 
them? Let me be permitted to leave the kingdom." 
When she was told they had hung up his body, she 
seemed somewhat moved, but without weeping ; and, 



presently after, said, that he was a very presumptuous 
insolent man, and that to get rid of him, she had deter- 
mined to retire into Italy that spring, and had prepared 
every thing ibr her journey; behaving with great con- 
fidence, as if she apprehended no danger. But she was 
carried to the Bastile, and afterwards committed to the 
Conciergerie", or prison of the parliament, by which 
court she was tried, and condemned to be beheaded and 
burnt to ashes, which sentence she underwent with 
reat constancy- 

It was pretended, that both she and her husband had 
not only judaized, but likewise practised magic arts, 
which at that time, as well as astrology, were mightily 
in vogue in France. But on her being questioned by 
counsellor Courtin concerning the kind of sorcery she 
had ustd, to influence the will of Mary de Mectfcis, she 
answered, that " she had used that power only which 
great minds always have over weak ones." 

Female Worthies. 

GAZZONI (JOHANNA), a famous Italian Painter. 
THERE are, particularly at Rome, many of her works, 
which are held in high estimation. 

Abec. Pitt. 

GENEBRIA, a Woman of Verona, lived in the time of 

. Pius II. 

COMPOSED many elegant epistles, *' polished both 
with high conceits and judgment : she pronounced with 
a sharp and loud voice, a becoming gesture, and a fe- 
cundous suavity." 

GENEVIEVE, a Patron Saint at Paris, born at Nan- 
tes about 419, 

Is said to have succoured the inhabitants of Paris dur- 
ing a terrible famine, by procuring many large vessels 



full of wheat, which she distributed among them. At 
that time nuns were not confined to monasteries, but 
lived in their own families Gerievieve was one of these. 
Miracles were attributed to her after her death. 


GENMEI and GENSIOO, Empresses of Japan, 
FAMOUS for their wisdom and prudence. The former 
came to the empire irr 708, reigned seven years, and 
gave names to the provinces, cities, and villages, which 
were marked down- in the public registers. The latter 
came to the throne m 715, and reigned nine years, 
when f-he resigned the crown to her nephew, and lived 
in a private station for twtnty-five years, when she died, 
aged 48. 

GENTILESCHI ( ARTEMISIA ) , Daughter of Oratio 
Gentileschi, an Artist of 'great repute in Historical and 
Portrait Painting, Native of Pisa. 

SHE excelled her father in the latter, and was but lit- 
tle inferior to him in historical pictures. She lived for 
the most part at Naples in great splendor, and was as 
famous al) over Europe for her gallantry, as for her ta- 

Fresnoy's Art of Painting. 

GEOFFREYN (MADAME), a Parisian Lady of 

WHO employed her great riches to succour misfortune 
and protect the learned, by whom she was much 
esteemed. Her fame was spread all over Europe, and 
even crowned heads sought to honour her by public 
marks of respect. She died 1777. 

F. c. 

GERARD (MADAME), a most excellent Painter. 



of Genius, 

WHO took infinite pains to read and well understand 
the British authors; and, if we may judge by the man- 
ner in which she points out their ditierent excellencies, 
wiih good success. 

Madame de Saint Germain was born at Paris, and 
lived there, greatly respected by persons of learning and 
condition. She seems, in respect to her disposition, 
very unlike the generality of her countrywomen, being 
rather of a melancholy contemplative turn, and conse- 
quently fond of retirement. 

Her writings abound with sentiment and good sense. 
I find only the title of olie of them in Mrs. Thicknesse ; 
Henry and Emilia. 

GETHIN, (LADY GRACE) Daughter of Sir George 
Norton, of Abbots- Lang-fey, Somersetshire, Knight 
and Baronet, and Wife of Sir Richard Gcthin, of 
Gethin-Grot, in Ireland. Born 167(3 ; died 1697, 
aged 21 ; 

HER mother, a lady of piety, gave her all the 
advantages of a liberal education; and the quick ad- 
vances she made in knowledge, were an ample re- 
com pence for all the care and pains taken with her. 
Her reading and observations were extraordinary ; 
for she had considered the human passions, with 
unusual penetration and accuracy of judgment; and 
laid such a substantial foundation ibr her conduct 
in life, as would have made her a shining example of 
every Christian virtue ; but she died early, though not 
unprepared, and was buried in Westminster abbey ; 
on the south side of which, is erected to her memory 
a beautiful monument of black and white marble. 

She wrote, and left behind her, iu loose papers, a 



work, which, soon after her death, was methodized, 
and published with the following title, Reliquioe Gethi- 
niana", or some Remains of the most ingenious and excel- 
lent Lady Grace, I^ady Gethin, lately deceased; being 
a collection of choice Discourses, pleasant Apothegms, 
and witty Sentences. Written by her, for the most 
part, by way of essay, and 'at spare hours. London , 
1700, 4to. with her picture before it. This work 
consists of ingenious discourses ou Friendship, Love, 
Gratitude, Death, Speech, Lying, Idleness, the World, 
Secresy, Prosperity and Adversity, of Children, Cow- 
ards, Bad Poets, IndirYerency, Censoriousness, Revenge, 
Boldness, of Youth and Age, Custom, Charity, Read- 
ing, Beauty, Flattery, Riches, of Honour and high 
Places, of Pleasure, Suspicion, Excuses, and, lastly, 

Among Mr. Congreve's poems are to be found verses 
to the Memory of Grace, Lady Gethin, occasioned by 
reading her book, entitled, Reliquia* Getliinianw ; in 
which that agreeable poet, after speaking of the short- 
ness of life, and the difficulties of obtaining knowledge, 
proceeds thus : 

Whoe'er on this reflects, and then beholds 

With strict attention what this book unfolds, 

With admiration struck, shall question, who 

So very long could live so much to know ? 

For so complete the finish' d piece appears, 

That learning seems combin'd with length of years, 

And botl) improv'd by purest wit to reach 

At all that study, or that time can teach. 

But to what height must his amazement rise, 

When having read the work, he turns his eyes 

Again to view the foremost opening page, 

And there the beauty, sex, and tender age 

Of her beholds, in whose pure mind arose 

Th' ethereal source from whence this current flows ? 



For perpetuating her memory, provision was made for 
a sermon to be preached in Westminster abbey, on Ash 
Wednesday for ever. . 

Female Worthies. 


A FRENCH lady, known in the nineteenth century by 
many works which were well received. 



AN excellent female painter, of whom it suffices to 
say, that all the pictures in the church of the monas- 
tery of S. Lucia, in Rome, arc the work of her hands, 
although designed by Lanfranck. 

Abec. Pitt. 

GODEWYCK, (MARGERITA) a Dutch Paintress, 

born at Dort 1627, died 1677. 

SHE had a fine taste for painting landscapes, and 
also excelled in working embroidery. 

GODIVA, Wife ofLeofric, Earl of Mercia, temp. Ed- 
ward tfie Confessor, 

FAMED as the deliverer of Coventry from many op- 
pressive laws. The story, as taken from a M.S. in 
Bib. Bod. and Math. Paris, is as follows : 

" This Leofric married Godiva, a most beautiful and 
devout lady, sister of one Thorold, sheriff ot Lincoln- 
shire in those days, and founder of Spalding Abbey: 
which countess bearing an extraordinary affection to 
Coventry, oiten and earnestly besought her husband 
that, for the love of God and the biessed Virgin, he 
would free it from that grievous servitude to which it 
was subject. But he, rebuking her for importuning 
him in a matter so inconsistent with his profit, com- 


nianded that she should thenceforth forbear to move 
therein. Yet she, out of her womanish pertinacity; con- 
. tinu'ed to solicit him, insomuqh that he told her, if she 
would ride on horseback naked, from one end of the 
town to the other, he would grant her request. Where- 
uato she returned ; But will you give me leave to do 
so? And fye replying., Yes; the noble lady, upon an 
appointed day, got on horseback, with her hair loose, 
so that it entirely covered her ; and thus performing 
the journey, returned with joy to her husband, who 
thereupon granted to the inhabitants a charter of free- 

.Again, " And now, before I proceed," says he, 
" I have a word more to say of the noble countess Godiva, 
which is, that besides her devout advancement of that- 
pious work of his, i.e. her husband Leofric, in this 

nificent monastery, of Monks at Coventry, she gave 
her whole treasure there ; and sent for skilful goldsmiths, 
who, with all the gold and silver she had, made 
crosses, images of saints, and other curious ornaments." 
Which, perhaps, may serve us a specimen of the devo- 
tion and patriotism of the times. 


THIS singular woman was born, 1749, in London, or 
at a farm in Eppirig-forest. 

Mr. Wollstonecraft was a man of a quick, impetu- 
ous disposition, and, it seems, his daughter inherited 
too much of this warmth to separate, with kindness, a 
disapprobation of his fits of ill-humour, and sometimes 
cruelty to his family and to the animals under his pro- 
tection, from a personal dislike to a father, who is said, 
but in those transports, (and they are reported to have 
come pretty often) to have been passionately fond of 

Q Her 


Her education- was slender, and she had none of those 
early advantages, which have been the lot of most who 
have distinguished themselves in the literary world. 
Uncomfortable at home, she left it ; and, at nineteen, 
lived with a Mrs* Dawson, of Bath, as a companion, 
for two years, only leaving her on the intelligence of her 
mother's illness, when she returned home, and attended 
her till her death ; after which, finding herself in nar- 
row circumstances, by the imprudence of her father, 
she was anxious to fix upon some mode of life, which 
would not only secure her independence, but enable her 
to be of use to her family and the public : for this pur- 
pose, she opened a day-school, tirst at Islington, then 
at New in gton- green, under the superintendence of her 
most intimate friends, Miss Fanny Blood, her two sis- 
ters, and herself. (The former was her most, and, as 
it seems, her earliest friend ; by her she had been taught 
to spell, and to write with some regard to the rules of 

Here ehe became acquainted with Dr. Richard Price, 
and was led, by her friendship for him, not to become 
a sectarian, but occasionally to attend the dissenters' 
meetings ; yet, frequenting .usually the established 
church until the last ten years of her life, in which she 
attended no public service, thinking the contemplation 
of the Deity the worship best adapted to his nature and 
to ours. 

About the beginning of 1785, concern for her friend 
Miss Bjood, whohad married Mr.Skegs, then resident in 
Portugal, and was dangerously ill, induced Miss Woil- 
stoiiecraft to borrow a sufficient sum of money, and go 
to Lisbon to attend her. On her friend's death, she re- 
turned to England ; but finding her school had suffered 
in her absence, she was recommended to pursue litera- 
ture as a means of support. The father and mother of 
the late Miss Blood wanted pecuniary assistance. She 
wrote a small volume, entitled Thoughts on the Educa- 
tion of Daughters, for which Mr. Johnson, the book- 


seller, gave her ten guineas, which she bore away, with 
exultation, to die succour of infirmity and age. And, 
about tliis time, received an offer of being governess to 
the daughters of'lord viscount Kingsborough. In this fa- 
mily, where she was much liked, she staid about a year, 
and then determined to enter on her literary plan, and 
returned to London, where she commenced author by 
profession; finding an asylum, at first, under the roof of 
Mr. Johnson, the bookseller, and afterwards taking a ho use 
in George-street, on the Surry side of Black- friars. She- 
wrote many things, which he published ; The Answer 
to Mr. Burke, and The Vindication of the Rights of 
Women ; and took a considerable share in the Analytical 
Review, which was instituted by him, in 1783. She 
likewise translated several works for Mr. Johnson ; tor 
she had made herself, by this time, acquainted with 
the French and German languages. 

At his house she became acquainted with Fuseli, Div 
George Fordyce, Mr. Bonnycastle, and Mr. Anderso*. 
In consequence of an attachment she thought herself ia 
danger of imbibing for the former, she left London and 
went to France, where she resided for upwards of two 

About four months after her arrival at Paris, she be-< 
came acquainted with Mr. Gilbert Imlay, a native of the; 
United States of America, and known by a publication, 
on the State of Kentucky. 

Always entertaining the most violent prejudices 
against the condition of European marriages, she yet 
took upon herself the duties of that state without the ce- 
remony. To screen her from the late decree respecting 
it in the French convention, she found it expedient to 
assume the name of Imlay, and pass for the wife of a na- 
tive of the United States of America; but she refused 
to be actually married to him, from romantic notions of 
keeping him free from family embarrassments, and per- 
haps, from the obstinate vanity of adhering to opinions 
she had once declared. 

Q 2 Mr, 


Mr. Imlay' s pursuits, some time after, led him to 
Havre de Grace, .where, soon after, she repaired, 
and where she had a daughter. He then went to 
London, having prevailed with her to return to Paris ; 
and they never met again with cordiality. In April', 
1795, she returned to London. But the altered con- 
duct of Mr. Imlay drove her to desperation, and she 
twice attempted to put an end to her life, but was pre- 

In March, 1796, she totally lost the hope of reclaim- 
ing Mr. Imlay, though, twelve months before, all ra- 
tional grounds of that hope had ceased ; and, about six 
months afterwards, entered into a similar connection 
with Mr. Godwin, the author of Political Justice, 
&c. They had long known each other, but did not im- 
mediately marry, both disliking the responsibilities and 
conditions attending the ceremony. After, however, 
Mrs. Godwin found herself pregnant, she thought it 
better to submit to marriage, than to that exclusion from 
society to which living without it would subject her. 
But she still found that Mrs. -Godwin was deserted by 
many ladies who had courted the acquaintance of Mrs. 
Imlay. As she had passed for the wife of the latter, 
and had even obtained a certificate of the American am- 
bassador at Paris that she w T as so, her friends in Eng- 
land might think, that in a country like France, where 
all ancient forms are abolished, such a certificate was 
sufficient to constitute a legal marriage. 

She appears to have lived very happily with Mr. 
Godwin, until September the 10th, v 1797, when she died 
: u childbed in great agonies ; afflicted at separating 
from her husband, but without seeming to entertain a 
thought of a future state. 

Monthly Mirror, British Critic. 



GOLINDO (BEATRICE), of Salamanca, in Spain, 
Lady of Honour to Isabella of Castile 9 and Wife of 
Ramirez, Secretary to the King. Died 1635. 

THE perfect knowledge she had of Latin made her be 
called La Latina; a name which an hospital at Madrid, 
founded by her, still bears. 


DE) Daughter of a French Comedian, and Wife of 
Don Gubrielde Gomez, a Spanish Gentleman. Bom 
at Paris, 1684, died 1771. 

AN agreeable and most'entertaining writer, possessed 
of a warm and lively imagination, which rendered her 
fully equal to all the genius of romance. Her writings 

1. Lettre sur le Poeme du Clovis, de St. Didier, 8vo. 

2. Histoire Secrette de la Conquete de Grenade, 12mo. 

3,'Oetivres Melees, contenant ses Tragedies et autres 
Ouvrat**, 12mo. 1724. 

4. Anecdotes Persannes, 2 vols. 12mo. 1727. 

5. Le Triomphede I' Eloquence, 12mo. 1730. 

6. Entretiens Nocturnes de Mercure et de la Renom- 
mees, 12mo, 1731. 

7. La Jeune Alcidiane, 3 vols. I2mo. 1733. 

8. Hidtoired'Osman,Empereur de Turcs, 12mo. 2 vol. 

9- Les Cent, une Nouvelles, 12mo. 18 vols. 1732. 

10. Journees Amusantes, I'Smo. 8 vols. 1733. 

11. Histoire du Comte d'Ovfort, 12mo. 1737. 

13. Crementine, Reine de Saxga, 12mo.2vois. 1740. 

13. La Belle AssemUee, 12mo. 4 vols. 1750. 

14. Tiie.itrical pieces; Hahis, Semi f amis 9 Clearq-ue, 

Q 3 Marsidie, 


Marsidie, et ks Eprevves, which were played with great 
success, particularly the first. She wrote some poetical 
pieces, in an easy and playful style. In her old age she 
retired to St. Germain's en Laye, where she died. 

Letter* on France. 

GONZAGA, (JULIA) Duchess of Trajetto, and Conn- 
tess of Fondi> iired in the 16th Century ; 

WAS the wife of Vespasian Colonna ; after whose 
death, she took for her device an Amaranthus, which 
the herbalists call Love-flower, with this motto, Non 
moritum, i.e. never to die; hinting thereby that her first 
love should be immortal. She was so 'celebrated for 
her beauty, that Soliman, emperor of the Turks, want- 
ing to see her, ser.t B^rbarcssa, kisg of Algiers, arm his 

lieutenant-general, with a powerful army to Fondi, the 
place of her residence, in 1534. But though Barbarossa 
arrived at night, and took the city by storm, yet Julia 
escaped ; for taking the alarm , she ran away bare- footed , 
and secured her honour, while she exposed her life to 
a thousand dangers. This lady has been greatly ap- 
plauded for her learning ; and Thuanus tells us, she was 
suspected of Lutheranism. 

Female Worthies. 

GONZAGA, (LUCRETIA) an Italian Lady, in the 
16th Century, 

FAMOUS for her wit, learning, and elegant style of 
writing, and illustrious for her high birth. Her letters were 
written in so fine a manner, that they were carefully pre- 
served, and a collection of them printed at Venice, in 
1552. There is in them no shew of learning; yet, inaletter 
to Robortellus,' she declares, that his commentaries had 
led her into the true sense of several obscure passages 



in Aristoile and jEschilus. AH the wits of her time 
were unanimous in her praise, and Hortensio Larido 
dedicated a work to her, Upon moderating ike Passions 
of the Soul. They corresponded, and she wrote above 
thirty letters to him, which have all been printed. 

She was married to John Paul Maufrane, when she 
was not fourteen years old, and his conduct afterwards 
gave her infinite uneasiness. He engaged in a conspi- 
racy against the duke of Ferrara; was detected, impri- 
soned, and condemned, but not executed ; yet she 
strove in vain to procure his enlargement. She ap- 
plied to all the powers in Christendom to intercede for 
him, and even solicited the Grand Signior to make him- 
self master of the castle, in which her husband was 
imprisoned, without doing other injury to the Euro- 
pean powers. What made her the more active was, be- 
cause she was not permitted to visit him, arm they had 
only the liberty of writing to each other. But ail her 
efforts were fruitless ; he died in prison, and shewed 
himself so impatient under his misfortunes, that it was 
imagined he lost his senses. 

Alter his death, she would never listen to any pro- 
posals of marriage, though several were made. She had 
by him four daughters. At his death two only were 
living, whom she put into a nunnery. Ail that came 
from her pen was so highly esteemed, that a collection 
was made even of the notes she wrote to her servants ; 
several of which are to be seen in the edition of her let- 

Many ladies of this name were famous for their learn- 
ing and other great qualities. 

Female Worthies. 

BOURG, MARQUISE DE LA) a Lady of great 
literary Accomplishments, who was living at Toulouse 
in 1780. 

HER poems are held in great estimation, and en- 
Q 4 titled 


tilled her to be Admitted into the academy des Jeux 
Floraux, who considered her as one of their greatest or- 
naments. Her poem of U Amour et la Fortune, is 
esteemed excellent. It contains near one hundred 
and forty lines. She. was crowned for this and other 
compositions several times. It is said her domestic hap- 
piness is a proof that genius may add as much to the 
social comforts of home, as it will enliven gayer scenes. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. 

GQURNAY^ (MARY DE JARS, Lady of) Daugh- 
ter of William de Jars, Lord of Neufoi and Govrnay ; 
lorii, it is said, in Gascony, about the Yeur 15d5, 
died 1015 ; 

FROM her infancy was observed to have a strong in 
clination to literature, to which she devoted her whole 
time and attention, and soon surpassed all her in- 
' structors. Soon after the famous Montaigne had pub- 
lished his first essays, they came to the hands of this 
lady, who read them over with eagerness, and expressed 
the highest esteem for the author. 

Montaigne being informed of these declarations, made 
many reflections on the occasion, in praise of Made- 
moiselle de Gournay's talents. Hence her esteem grew 
into a higher degree of reverential affection ; so that her 
father happening, to die not long after, she adopted this 
charming writer in his stead, even before she had seen 
him. But, as he went to Paris in 1588, and continued 
there good part of the year, she made him a visit, that 
she might know the face of her father elect, to whom 
she shewed no less respect and duty than she paid to 
her natural parent ; insomuch that she prevailed with 
her mother to take him with them to their house at 
Cournay, where he was entertained with all possible civi- 
lity and kindness for two 'or three montTis. 

In short, she w r as so devoted to the belles lettres, that 



Montaigne foretold, in his second book of essays, 
that she would be capable of the first-rate productions. 
She passed many years very happily in friendship 
with him and his family ; and when she received the 
news of his death, crossed almost the whole king- 
dom of France, invited by his widow and daughter to 
come and mingle her tears with theirs. Not satisfied 
with paying this filial respect to his ashes, she revised, 
corrected, and 'reprinted an edition of his essays, in 
1635, to which she prefixed a preface, in which she 
makes use of the strongest expressions of esteem and re- 
spect for his memory. 

The dedication was to cardinal Richelieu, who was 

her patron ; and who, to enable her to set up her coach 

and equipage, offered to enlarge the small pension which 

had been granted her by the king ; but she declined the 

favour, looking on the pension merely as a testimony of 

her merit, and as it was trifling, all the reflections on 

a dependance were cut off, which would unavoidably 

attend its enlargement. She was always welcome .to 

the princesses of the blood ; and in particular her society 

was courted by the duke de Retelois, eldest son of the 

duke de Nevers, who, though of a veiy gay and gallant 

temper, would leave any other lady's conversation for 

her's, who was very plain in her person. 

Upon the assassination of Henry IV. by Ravaillac 
the Jesuit, in 1610, both papists and protestants fell 
upon that order on the occasion. Father Coton, an 
eminent member of the society, undertook Iheir vindi- 
cation, and was answered in a piece, entitled Anti-coton. 
Mademoiselle de Gournay published some books, in 
favour of the Jesuits, against the Anti-coton. Upon 
which she was attacked, - in some illiberal publications 3 
which ridiculed her on her age, her person, and her re- 
putation, most unjustly, Mie wrote several tilings both 
in prose and verse, which were collected into one vo- 
lume, and published by herself in 163(3, entitled, Les 
Avis et les Prcscns de la Demoiselle de Gournai. 

Q 5 Made- 


Mademoiselle de Gournay was celebrated for her 
learning and knowledge; she corresponded with most 
of the great men of her time, and was considered as 
the guardian and protectress of the ancient words in the 
French language, being greatly offended at the altera- 
tions which were daily creeping in. She dedicated her 
hook, entitled Le Bouquet de Pinde, to her adopted 

She left some other works in M.S. which were printed 
after her death, under this title, L' 'Ombre de Mile, de 
Gournai ; and another, Avis de Mile, de Gournai. This 
extraordinary woman studied continually, even to her 
death, which happened at Paris in 1()45, at the age of 
eighty. A great number of epitaphs were made by 
the first geniuses of the age, in honour of her memory. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. Female Worthies, &c. 

GOZZADINA, (BETTISIA) a learned Lady of 
Bologna, who died 1249. 

IN 193*2, at the age of twenty- three, she pronounced 
a beautiful funeral oration in Latin, in the great church 
of Bologna. She applied herself particularly to the study 
of the law, became a doctor in that university, and ob- 
tained a professor's chair in 1239, gave public les- 
sons and composed many works on the law, which ob- 
tained her the esteem of all Europe. She would never 



THIS lady's maiden name was Frap9pisc d'Ap- 
poncourt, onty daughter to Framboise d'lssembourg, of 
a noble and ancient German family ; she was born in 
korraine, and ditd at Paris 17oS ; in Die 04th year of 



her age. To a solid understanding and strength of 
judgment, she united a susceptible heart, and an amiable 
disposition ; her engaging manners in conversation, 
charmed all who knew her. The early part of her life 
was spent in retirement, and in studying the best au- 
thors, and she then accompanied Mile, de Guise to Paris, 
previous to that lady's marriage with the duke de 

Some of her first literary productions were NouveUe 
Espagnole, and Les Lettres (Tune Peruv'-enne, (which 
has been published in England, under the title of The 
Peruvic.n Princess )\ both of which were much admired, 
but particularly the latter, as it is written with great 
spirit, and abounds with delicacy of sentiment. The 
story is simple and interesting, and there is a vein of 
elegant and gay satire in it, highly amusing. Her the- 
atrical pieces are also much esteemed, particularly 
Ow/<? a comedy in five acts ; and another, entitled La 
FiJle 'aAristide. She also composed many others, in 
verse and prose ; but her Peruvian Letters are her chef- 
d'oeuvre ; and, without laying claim to the highest palm 
of genius, are the pleasing productions of a mind of 
taste and observation. 

Mrs. Thickncsse. 

GRAVIO, (MARIA SIBILLA) Daughter of Matthew 
Mer tan'y of Franhfort, and Wife of George Andrew 
Gravio, a Painter of Nuremberg ; 

PAINTED flowers, fruits, herbs, and animals, so true 
to nature that it was wonderful : she embroidered ex- 
cellentiy, and gave lessons in all those studies. She 
flourished in 1683. Some of her drawings are in- the Bri- 
tish Museum. 





WROTE the French poem of Palamon and Arcite, 
at the command of Claude, queen of Francis I. about 
the year 1489 : she took her story from Boccace's 

Whartorfs Hist, of Eng. Poetry. 

GREY (LADY JANE), eldest Daughter of Henry, 
Marquis of Dorset, and Duke of Suffolk, by Mary, 
Queen Dowager to Louis XI I. of France, and youngest 
.Daughter of Henry VII. Born in the Year 1537, at 
Broadgate, in Leicestershire'. Died 1553-4. 

EDWARD VI. was deemed almost a prodigy of learn^ 
ing for his early years ; yet, in this respect, his pious 
cousin, Lady Jane, was allowed ^o be his superior, 
though there was but about two years difference in 
a*?;e. She spoke and wrote her own language with pe- 
culiar accuracy ; and, it is said, that the French, Ita- 
Jiaii, Latin, and Greek languages, were as familiar to 
her as the English ; for she not only understood them 
perfectly, but wrote them with the utmost freedom, not 
only in "the opinion of superficial judges, but of Mr. As- 
cham and Dr. Aylmer, men who, in point of veracity, 
were as much above suspicion, as in point of abilities 
they were incapable of being deceived. Lady Jane be- 
came also versed in Hebrew, Chaldee, and Arabic, 
played well on instrumental music, wrote a fine hand, 
and was excellent at her needle, and of mild, hum- 
ble, and modest spirit. She had early imbibed the 
principles of the Protestant religion, which she* embra- 
ced, as Dr. Heylih, in his History of the Reformation 3 
observes, not out of any outward compliance with the 
times, but because her own judgment was fully satis- 


fied of its truth and purity, which appeared from her 
constant adherence- to it, when neither the hope of gran- 
deur nor the fear of death could reconcile her to the Ro- 
mish church. 

Her very strong affection for learning is shewn 
by this remarkable testimony of Mr. Ascham. " Be- 
fore I went into Germany, 1 came to Broad gate, in Lei- 
cestershire, to take my leave of that noble lady Jane 
Grey, to whom I was exceeding much beholding. Her 
parents, the duke and the duchess, with all the house- 
hold, gentlemen and gentlewomen, were hunting in the 
park. I found her in her chamber, reading Phqtden 
Ptatonis,m Greek, and that with as much delight as some 
gentlemen would read a merry tale in Boccace. After 
salutation, and duty done, with some other talk, I asked 
her, why she should lose so much pastime in the park ? 
Smiling, she answered me, '* I wist all their sport in the 
park is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in Plato. 
Alas ! good folk , they never felt what true pleasure meant. ' ' 
" And how came you, Madam," quoth I, "to this 
deep knowledge of pleasure, and what did chiefly allure 
you unto it, beeing not many women, and but very few 
men have attained thereunto?" " I will tell you," said 
she, " and tell you a truth, which perchance you will 
marvel at. One of the greatest benefits that God ever 
gave me, is, that he sent me so sharp and severe pa- 
rents, and so gentle a schoolmaster ; for when I am in 
presence of either father or mother, whether I speak, 
keep silence, sit. stand, or go, eat, drink, be merry or 
sad, be sewino-, dancing, or doing any thing else, I must 
do it as it were, in such weight, measure, and number, 
even so perfectly as God made the world, or else I am 
so sharnly taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea presently 
sometimes, with pinches, nips, and bobs, ?aid other 
ways (which I will not name for the honour I hear 
them) without tm^sure misordered, till the time come 
that 1 must f^o to Mr. Elmer, who teacheth me so guit- 
ly, so pleasantly, with such fair allurements to learning, 



that I think all the time nothing whiles I am with him. 
And when I am called from him, I fall on weeping, be- 
cause whatsoever I do else, but learning, is full of grief, 
trouble, fear, and whole misliking unto me. And thus 
my book hath been so much my pleasure, and bringeth to 
me daily more pleasure, and more that in respect of it, 
all other pleasures in very deed are but trifles and very 
troubles unto me." I remember this talk very gladly, 
{says Mr. Ascham), both because it is so worthy of me- 
mory, and because also it was the last talk that ever I 
had, and the last time that ever I saw that noble and 
worthy lady.*' 

Her great attainments and amiable qualities endeared 
her so much to the young king, Edward VI. that he 
was the more easily seduced by the artifices of the duke 
of Northumberland to seclude his two sisters, Mary and 
Elizabeth, -from the succession, and convey it by will to 
the Lady Jane. The duke, in order to get the crown 
into the possession of his own family, contrived a match 
between the Lord Guildford Dudley, his fourth son, and 
the Lady Jane, which was solemnized at Durham- place, 
in May, 1553. Soon after her marriage, the king's 
health declined apace, and he died the (5th of July fol- 
lowing, 15^3, not without suspicion of poison. 

These previous steps being taken, and the Tower 
and city of London secured, oruMouday, July 10, the 
two dukes repaired to Durham-house, where the lady 
Jane resided with her husband. There the cluke of Suf- 
folk, with much solemnity, explained to his daughter 
the disposition the late king had made of. his crown; 
the cleir sense the privy-council had of her right; 
the consent of the magistrates and citizens ; and with 
Northumberland, paid her homage fts queen of Eng- 
fcimi. Greatly astonished at their discourse, but not at 
all persuaded by their reasons, or elevated by such un- 
expected honours, she returned them an answer to this 
effect: " That the laws of the kingdom, and the natu- 
?al right standing fox the king's sisters, she would beware 



of burdening her weak conscience with a yoke that did 
belong to them ; that she understood the infamy of those 
who had permitted the violation of right to gain a scep- 
tre; that it were to mock God, and deride justice, to 
scruple at the stealing of a shilling, and not at the usur- 
pation of a crown. Besides,'* said she, " I am not so 
young, nor so little read in the smiles of fortune, to suf- 
fer myself to be taken by them. If she enrich any, it 
is but to make them the subject of her spoil ; if she raise 
others, it is but to pleasure herself with their ruins ; 
what she adored but yesterday, to-day is her pastime ; 
and if I now permit her to adorn and crown me, I 
must to-morrow sutler her to crush and tear me to 
pieces. My liberty is better than the chain you proffer 
me, with what precious stones soever it be adorned, or of 
what goid soever framed. I will not exchange my place 
for honourable and precious jealousies, for magnificent 
and glorious fetters ; and if you love me sincerely, and 
in good earnest, you will rather wish me a secure and 
quiet fortune, though mean, than an exalted condi- 
tion, exposed to the wind, and followed by some dis- 
mal fall.'* 

However, :^he was at length prevailed upon by her fa- 
ther, mother, and Northumberland, but above all, by the 
earnest uesires of her husband, whom- she tenderly loved, 
to yield to their request; with a heavy heart sutienng 
herself to be conveyed to the Tower, where she entered 
with all the state of a queen, attended by the principal 
nobility, and her train su -ported by the duchess of Suf- 
folk, h r inoth?r, in whom, if in any of this line, the 
right of succession remaned. About six o'clock in the 
afternoon, she was proclaimed with all due solemnities ia 
the city: the same day she also assumed the regal 
title, and proceeded afterwards to exercise acts of sove- 
reignty. But the preparations made by Mary to reco- 
ver her right, with the general coldness and neglect ob- 
served in the Lady Jane's cause, induced the two dukes, 



after a few days of mock grandeur, to drop their ambi- 
tious views, and feign submission to Mary. CTpon this 
sudden turn, the duke, her father, came, and in the 
gentlest terms required her to lay aside the state of a 
queen, and content herself with the condition of a sub- 
ject. She, not at all discomposed, told him, -that she 
was much better pleased with this news than when she 
ascended the throne purely in obedience to himself -and 
her mother. 

Mary being seated on the throne, Lady Jane, with 
her husband, were committed to the Tower, and on the 
13th of November both arraigned at Guildhall, and 
brought in guilty of treason, but not executed till the 
duke of SuiYolk engaged in Wyat's rebellion, which 
proved fatal to his excellent daughter, as the ministry 
now advised the queen to proceed to extremities, since, 
they said, she could not be safe so long as Lady Jane 
was living. 

This being resolved on, many of the Roman Catho 
lies of learning arid abilities were sent to her, to dissuade 
her from the religion she had always professed, each' 
striving to convert her to the Romish church; but all 
their efforts were fruitless, for she had art and wisdom to 
withstand thtir flatteries, and constancy above their 
menaces. At last Mr. Feckingharn, chaplain to the 
queen, was sent to give her notice of her death ; and of- 
fered to reconcile her to the church of Rome. She le- 
ccived the first part of his message with great temper 
and unconcern, but said, she had no leisure to enter 
upon controversy, and should spend the little time she 
had in preparing for eternity. Mr. Feckmgham, on this, 
procured a respite for three days ; but when he acquaint- 
ed her with it, he desired she would hear him upon the 
subject of religion. She told him, he mistook her mean- 
ing, that she was by no means fond of living any longer, 
and had not the least intention he s-hould solicit the 
queen on that account; but Mr. Feckingham being very 



pressing to converse with her on religious topics, at last 
they engaged in a dispute concerning justification by 
faith, the number of sacraments, transubstantiation, 
communion in one kind, and the authority of the 
church. This conference gained her much esteem, and 
is greatly admired and commended by bishop Burnet, 
Mr. Collier, and other ecclesiastical historians. 

Hollinshed and Sir Richard Baker inform us, thaLshe 
wrote divers excellent treatises ; but what they were, or 
where to be found, is not mentioned. Many of her let- 
ters remain, remarkably elegant and pious. 

On the morning of execution, Lord Guildford ear- 
nestly desired to take his last farewell of her; but she 
declined it, saying, they should soon meet again, and it 
would only add to their present affliction. All she could 
do, was to give him a farewell from a window; but 
wfien she went to the scaffold, she met his dead- body, 
which moved her to tears. Having ascended it, 
she declared herself innocent of any wilful trans- 
gression of the laws of the kingdom ; saying, that her 
crime was the being too easily persuaded, but she did 
not murmur at her sentence, and submitted to the scaf- 
fold with admirable meekness and composure, at the 
age of seventeen. 

Female Worthies, &c. 

GRIERSON (CONST ANTIA), of the County of Kil- 
kenny, in Ireland; died 1733, aged 27; 

WAS allowed, long before, to be an excellent scholar, 
not only in Greek and Roman literature, but in history, 
divinity, philosophy, and mathematics. She gave a 
proof of her knowledge in the Latin tongue, by her de- 
dication of the Dublin edition of Tacitus to the Lord 
Carteret, and by that of Terence to his son, to whom she 
likewise wrote a Greek epigram. She wrote several fine 
poems in English, on which she set so little value, that 



she neglected to leave copies, but of *ery few, behind 

She is said to hove exemplified that fine saying of a 
French autiior : "That a great genius should be superior 
to his own abilities." 

When Lord Carteret was lord- lieu tenant of Ireland, 
he obtained a patent for Mr. Grierson, her husband, to 
be king's printer; and to distinguish and reward her un- 
common merit, had her life inserted in it, 

The foregoing account is entirely transcribed from Mrs. 
Barber's preface prefixed to her poems. To this we shall 
add some particulars, which Mrs. Pitkington has record- 
ed. She tells us, " that when about eighteen years of 
age, she was brought to her father to be instructed in 
midwifery ; tiiat she was mistress of Hebrew, Greek, 
Latin, and French, understood mathematics as well as 
mosfc rr,enj and what made these extraordinary talents 
yet more surprising, was. that her parents were poor il- 
literate country people ; so that her learning appeared 
like the gift, poured out on the apostles, of speaking all 
languages without the pains of study." Mrs. Pilkiiig- 
ton enquired of her, where she had gained this prodi- 
gious knowledge? To which Mrs. Griersen answered, 
" that she received some little instruction from the minis- 
ter of the parish, when she could spare time from ber 
needle-work, to which she was closely kept by her mo- 
ther." Mrs. Pilkington adds, " that she wrote elegant- 
ly both in verse and prose; that her turn was chiefly to 
philosophical or divine .subjects; that her piety was not 
inferior to her learning; and that some of the most de- 
lightful hours she herself had ever passed, were in the 
conversation of this female philosopher. " 

She wrote an Abridgement of the History of England. 
There are many particular circumstances of her life 
which do her honour, and are a noble example to the liv- 
ing, particularly as a wife and mother. She was patro- 
nized by the late Lord Granville, and was the editor of 
several of the classics. Her son, who was his Majesty's 



printer at Dublin, and instructed by her, was a man of 
uncommon learning, great wit, and vivacity. He died 
in Germany, at the age of twenty- seven. Dr. Johnson 
highly respected his abilities, aiul often observed, that 
he possessed more extensive knowledge than any man of 
his years he had ever known. Bis industry was equal 
to his talents, he particularly excelled in every species of 

Ehilologlcal learning, and was perhaps the best critic of 
is time. 

Female Worthies, &c. 

GRIFFITH (MRS,) Wife of Richard Griffith, Esq. an 
Irish Gentleman, and an Author , 

FIRST distinguished herself by the Letters of Henry 
ana Prances, which contained the correspondence 01 licr- 
self and husband, both before their marriage and for some 
years after. They were published at the particular re- 
quest of Margaret, countess of York, who was one of the 
confidants of this connection, which was first kept secret 
for family reasons. This collection has passed through 
many editions. Her next work was, Memoirs of Ninon 
de VEnclos, translated from the French, with original 
comments, and she has treated the subject with parti- 
cular judgment and delicacy. A dramatic poem, named 
Amana, was her next publication, which was followed 
by three popular novels, The Delicate Distress, History 
of Lady Barton, and The Story of Lady Juliana Harley. 
In some of the intervals to these publications, she pro- 
duced three comedies, the Platonic Wife, the Double 
Mistake, and the School for Scandal, all of which were 
acted with much applause. Another, called a Wife in 
the Right, had not the same success. 

The last and most valuable of her works were, the 
Morality of Shakespeare's Drama illustrated, and Essays 
to Young Married Women. She died 1793, at Millicent, 
in the county of Kildare, Ireland. 





ONE of the. cleverest women of her time, was an am- 
bassador in 1645 to Poland, conducting there Maria- 
Louisa Gonzaga, of Mantua, who was to be queen of 
that country. Uladislaus, however, had been in the 
mean time so prejudiced against his destined wife, that 
he thought of sending her back to France. The mare- 
chale, however, exerted such a proper spirit in an inter- 
view with him, and so satisfied his mind in respect to 
what he had heard, that the marriage took place ; and 
to witness his high esteem for Madame de Guebriant, he 
commanded the same honours to be* paid to her as to the 
Archduchess of Inspruck. She died at Perigueux, in 

highly distinguished for her learning and literary ta- 
. lents, 

COMPOSED a work, Mcmoires de Milady B. which 
has been attributed to Madame Ricoboni ; but its real 
author was Mademoiselle de la Guesnerie, a native of 
Angers, whose stile and sentiment is equal to any of her 
predecessors or cotemporaries; and her manner of wri- 
ting is such, as would almost make converts of those 
who do not in general admire that line of literature. 

Mrs. Thicknesse.' 


LA), born at Paris, 

GAVE proofs^during her early infancy, of extraordinary 



musical abilities; for at fifteen, she played before the king, 
and Madame de Montespan kept her three or four years. 
She married Martin de Ja Guerre, an organist, and gave 
the world Cephalis and Procris (the words by Duche), 
three books of Cantatas, a collection of Harpsichord Les- 
sons, another of Sonatas, and a Te Deum for the king's 
recovery, with grand choruses, which was performed 
in the chapel at the Louvre, 1721. She. died 1729. 

GUERCHOIS (MADAME LE), born at Paris 1679.' 
Died 1746. 

A WOMAN of virtue, taste, and wisdom, author of 
Reflexions Chretiennes sur les Livres Historiques de V An- 
den Testament. Avis d'un Mere a son Fils. Instructions 
on Exercises pour les Sacramens de Penitence # d'Ew* 
chariste ; and Pratiques pour se disposer a la Mort. 


COMPOSED a variety of poems, epistles, and dramas, 
which have met with great success, particularly the three 
following ; La Coquette Corrigee, Les Rendezvous, 
and Les Filles a Marier. But the most singular com- 
position of this lady is het own portrait, the only one we 
recollect having met with in ver^e. 

vivejus qtTa 1 etourderie, 

Folle dans mes discours, mais sage en mes cents, 
Us sont presque toivours remplis, 
Par des traits de ph.!- sophie. 
Sensible pourTinstai , mais facile a changer, 
L'oublie, & quelqueiois on peut me croire ingrate. 
Je cherche a m'eclairer ; Je croix ce qui me flatte; 
Je fuis les envieux, sans vouloir m'eu vanger : 
Mon esprit est solide, & moil coeur est lager. 
Air gai, peau blanche, oeil noir <fe grandeur ordinaire; 
Mes traits sont chifonnssj ma taille est reguliere. 




WHO published a work in 1065, with the title of Les 
Dames lllustres, oa, par bonnes $ fortes raisons, il se 
prouve que le Sexe Feminin surpasse en toute sorte dc 
Genre le Sexe Masculin. Her stile of writing is perfect- 
ly easy, elegant, and unaffected, and shews her to have 
been a woman of knowledge and abilities : she possessed 
besides many amiable qualities. 

Another lady of the same surname published, in 1668, 
a similar work. 

Mrs. Thicknesse, &c. 

GUILLET (PENETTE DU), a Poetess of Lyons, co- 
temporary with Louisa Labe, and illustrious for her 
virtue, graces, beauty, and literary attainment. 

SHE accompanied her own voice on man}' instruments, 
which she touched with exquisite skill. The Spanish, 
Italian, and Latin languages, in the last of which she 
composed many poems, were almost as familiar to her as 
the French. Many of her poetical pieces have reached 
the present times. 

F. C. &e. 

CUNILDA, sister of Sweyn, King of Denmark, 

WAS given as a hostage for the treaty of peace made 
between him and Ethel red-. She embraced Christianity, 
married Pulling, one of the principal lords of the Eng- 
lish court, and settled in this country ; when in .the ge- 
neral massacre of the Danes, under the direction of the, 
victorious Edric, Gunilda loll a victiin. The throats of 
her husband and children were cut before her eyes, and 
they then killed her by strokes with a lance. She died 
with all the firmness of a philosopher, lamenting almost 




equally the executioners and the Victims. " God will 
punish you," said she coldly to the latter, " and my 
brother will revenge my death." Sweyn did revenge 
her, and England sunk beneath the Danish yoke. 

Itivalito de la Fr- et de TAftg. 

MOTHE), a French Lady y memorable for her writings 
and sufferings, was descended of a Nolle Family, 
find born at Montargis 1648, Died 1717. 

SHE was sent, when only seven years of age, to the 
convent of the Ursu lines, where she was taken care of 
by one of her half sisters. At eight years of age, the 
confessor of the queen-mother of England, widow of 
Charles I. presented her to that princess, who would 
have retained her. had not her parents opposed it, and 
sent her back to the Ursulines. She would fain have 
taken the habit; but they having promised her to a gen- 
tleman in the country, "obliged her to marry him. At 
twenty-eight yviars ot age she became a widow, being 
left with three young children, two sons and a daugh- 
ter, of whom she w r as constituted guardian, and their 
education, with the management ot her fortune, became 
her only employment. She had put her domestic affairs 
into such order, as shewed an uncommon capacity; 
when of a sudden she was struck with an impulse to 
abandon every worldly care, and give herself up to seri- 
ous meditation, in which she thought the whole of re- 
ligion was comprized. 

In this disposition of mind she went first to Paris, 
where she became acquainted with M. d'Aranthon, bi- 
shop of Geneva, who persuaded her to go to his diocese, 
in order to perfect an establishment he had founded at 
Gex, for the reception of newly converted Catholics. 
She accordingly went in 1681, and took only her daugh- 
ter with her. Some time afterwards, her parents desi- 


red her to resign the guardianship of her children to 
them, and all her fortune, which was 40,000 livres a- 
year. She readily complied with their request, reserv- 
ing only a moderate pension for her own subsistence. 
Hereupon the new community desired their bishop to 
request her to bestow this remainder upon their house, 
and become Herself the superior ; but she refused to 
comply with the proposal, not approving their regula- 
tions; at which the bishop and his community took 
such offence, that he desired her to leave the house. 

She then retired to the Ursulines at Thonon, and from 
thence to Turin, Grenoble, and at last to Verceil, by 
the invitation of that bishop, who had a great veneration 
for her piety. At length, after an absence of five years, 
her ill state of health made her return to Paris, in 1686, 
to have the best advice. During her perambulations 
abroad, she. composed the Moyen court et tres facile 
defaire Oraison ; and another piece entitled, Le Ccw- 
tiquc de^Cantiques de Salomon interprete, selon le Sens 
mystique ; which were printed at Lyons, with a licence 
of approbation ; but as her irreproachable conduct, and 
extraordinary virtues, made many converts to her sys- 
tem, which was called Quietism, she was confined, 
by an order from the king, in the convent cles Filles de 
la Visitation, in 1688. Here she was strictly examined 
for the space of eight months, by order of M. Harlai, 
archbishop of Paris ; but this served only to illustrate 
her innocence and virtue; and Madam Miranion, the 
superior of the convent, representing the injustice of her 
detention to Madame Maintenon, the latter pleaded her 
cause so effectually to the king, that she obtained her 
discharge, and afterwards conceived for her a particu- 
lar affection and esteem. 

Not long after her deliverance, she became known to 
Fenelon, afterwards archbishop of Cambray, who be- 
came her disciple. She had besides acquaintance with 
the dukes- de Chevreuse and Beauvilliers, and several 
other distinguished persons. But these connections 



could not protect her from the ecclesiastics, who made 
violent outcries on the danger of the church from her 

IN this exigence, she was persuaded to put her wri- 
tings into the hands of the bishop of Meaux, and submit 
them to his judgment: who, after readingallber papers, 
both printed andMSS. had a conference with her, and was 
well satisfied with her principles;, yet a ferment daily 
increased, and an order was procured for the re-exami- 
nation of her two books.' M. Bossuet was at the head 
of this examination, to whom, at the request of Madam 
Guyon, was joined the bishop of Chalons, afterwards 
Cardinal de Noailles ; and to these two were added, 
first, M. Transon, superior of the society of St. Sulpice; 
and Fenelon. Madam Guyon, while her cause was 
under examination, retired to the convent of Meaux, at 
the desire of that bishop. At the end of six months, 
thirty-four articles were drawn up, which were signed 
at Isay, near Paris, by all the examinants, and by Ma- 
darri Guyon, who declared " she had always intended 
to write in a true catholic sense, and had not appre- 
hended any other could be put upon her words " 

In consequence of these submissions, and the testi- 
mony given of her conduct, during six months resi- 
dence in the convent of St. Mary de Meaux, the bishop 
continued her in the participation of the sacrament, de- 
claring that he had not found her any wise involved in 
heresies elsewhere condemned. Thus cleared, she re- 
turned to Paris, not dreaming of any further prosecution; 
but the storm ^was not yet allayed /for she was involved 
in the persecution of the archbishop of Cam bray, who 
as well as herself, was accused of Quietism, and ^he was 
imprisoned before the, ex pi ration of the year 1095, in 
the castle of Vmcennes ; from thence she was rejnoVx! 
to the convent of Thomas a Girard, and then thrown 
into the Bastile, where she underwent many rigorous 
examinations, and continued in prison, as a criminal 
till the meeting of the general assembly of French clercy' 



in 1700, when nothing being made out against her, 
she was released. After which, she went to the castle 
belonging to her children, and from thence to Blois, the 
next town to it. 

From this time till her death, which was twelve 
years, she remained in perfect oblivion, and her uniform 
and retired life is. an evident proof, that the noise she had 
made in the world, proceeded not from any ambition 
she had of making a figure in it : her whole time being 
employed irv the contemplation of God. The nume- 
rous verses which proceeded from the abundance of her 
heart, were formed into a collection, which was printed 
after her death, in five volumes, under the title of 
Canttqnes Spirituels, ou cTEmblemes stir I' Amour Divin. 
Her other writings consist of twenty volumes of the Old 
and New Testament, with Reflections et Explications 
concernantla Vie mtericure\ DiscoursChretiennes, in two 
volumes ; Letters to several Persons, in four ; Her Life, 
written by herself, in three ; a volume of Visitations, 
drawn from the most venerable authors, which she 
UKule use of before her examiners, and two of Opnscles. 

She died June 2, 1717,, having survived the arch- 
bishop of Cambray almost two years and a half, who 
had a singular veneration for her to the day of his death. 
Her poems were translated by Cowper, a little before his 


Female Worthies, &c. 


HABERT, (SUSAN DE) Wife of Charles du JM- 
din., an Officer of the Household to Henry III. of 
France. Died 1633. 

Becoming a widow in 1585, at the age of twenty- 
four, she applied herself to literature, particularly phi- 
losorjhy, divinity, and the Spanish, Italian, Latin, Greek, 



and Hebrew languages. She was still more worthy of 
respect from the sanctity of her manners and life, than 
for her great learning. 

Father Feejoo. 

HACHETTE, (JANE) Native of Beauvais, in Pz- 
cardy, renowned for her Courage in the 15th Centura/. 

THE Burgundians having laid siege to this town in 
1479, Jane, at the head of a troop of women, valiantly 
defended it ; repulsed them when they assaulted the 
place, took their colours from the hand of a soldier, 
who was going to plant them on the walls, and threw 
him headlong from it. In memory of this action, the 
privilege of walking at the head of the troops, carry- 
ing these colours, was granted to her, and some others 
ensured to her descendants. The portrait of this heroine 
is still shewn at Beauvais ; and, on the 10th of July, 
there was an annual procession, in which the women 
walked first. 


HALKET, (LADY ANNA) Daughter of Mr. Murray, 

of the Tullibardin Family. Born in London, 16212 ; 

died 1699 ; 

WAS instructed by her parents, who each preside^ 
over the education of different branches of the royal fa- 
mily, in every polite and liberal science ; but theology 
and physic were her favourite studies. She became so 
particularly versed in the latter art, and in the practice 
of surgery, that she was consulted, not only by the first 
people in England, but in Holland also, vvhence many 
came for her advice. 

In 1<>56, she married Sir Francis Halket, by whom 
she had four children, of whom only one survived. This 
union, which proved a happy one, lasted fourteen years, 
and she remained a widow "for the last twenty-eight of 

R2 ' her 


l*er life, universally beloved and respected for her learn- 
ing and virtue. She was a loyalist, and a sufferer in the 
cause of Charles I. " 

Lady Anna left twenty-one volumes, and thirty-six 
stiched books, of her writings ; some in folio, some in 
quarto, of which, a volume of Meditations, taken from 
her numerous MSS. were printed at Edinburgh, 

Female Worthies. 

Theophilus, Earl of Huntingdon. Born 1082 ; died 
1739 ; 

SUCCEEDED to a large fortune on the death of her bro- 
ther, George, Earl of Huntingdon, which she employed 
in the exercise of widely extended Christian charity. Mr. 
Congreve has drawn her character, under the name of 
Aspasia, in the 42d number of the Tatler. He praises 
her there for superior beauty, grace, and elegance of 
manners ; for unaffected wisdom and virtue ; for strict 
economy and active benevolence ; and all that exalts 
and ornaments a character - 

She lived principally at Ledstone house., in York- 
shire, 'which she rendered convenient for the sake of her 
servants, and elegant in order to employ the neighbour- 
ing 1 poor. Her public charities, during her life and by 
request, were more numerous than those of any other 
English woman. In private aid to her relations, friends, 
or the vlistrest, she< acted with royal munificence. She 
possessed a tine understanding and a lively wit, which 
v/as restrained by unaffected good-nature, fearful to 
^ive pain, and penetrating enough to know when pain 
was given, even when done without intention. 

She had early in life received an'accidental hurt upon 

her breast, which occasioned an inward tumour, that, in 

time, grew painful and increased, till there was a ne- 

;ty for amputation. Lady Elizabeth heard and 



submitted to the sentence with equanimity ; but 
though a short respite was thus procured, it eventually 
hastened her death. 

" Her patience and resignation, under a long and 
tedious sickness; her mourning for the sins of men ; her 
unwearied endeavours for their eternal welfare ; her ge- 
nerous and charitable appointments ; her tender ex- 
pressions to her relations, friends* and servants, and her 
grateful acknowledgments to her physicians, require 
whole pages to set them in a proper light." 

Though solicited by many, Lady Elizabeth preferred 
a single life. She destroyed the greatest part of her pa- 
pers before her death, and was buried in the family 
vault at Ledstone. 

Historical Character of, &c. 

HAVERNON, (Daughter of) the only Pupil of the 
celebrated Van Huspen, 

MADE such an astonishing progress in painting, that 
she excited her master's jealousy. 

HELENA, Queen &f Adiabene, in Arabia, 
WITH her son, embraced the Jewish religion. She 
was the wife of her brother Moaobazus, who left the 
kingdom to this his younger son, although he hap- 
pened to be absent at the time of his father's death ; it 
was confirmed by the nobles. In such a case, the 
other brothers were always put to death by the bar- 
barous policy ot those ages ; but Helena managed to pre* 
serve trW- of Izates; and, till his return, put the crown 
upon the head of the eldest, who then willingly sur- 
rendered it. Though separated, Helena and her son 
had both been privately instructed in the x Jewish reli- 
gion ; and the tearfulness of a mother made her anxious 
that he should conceal this difference in sentiment from 
his people ; but he acted otherwise, and prospered, till 
she begun to think such concealment might be displeas- 

R3 l ing 


ing to the Almighty ; and, having long formed a wish 
to go to Jerusalem, did so, being accompanied, the 
greatest part of the way, by her son. When she came 
there, she found the people 'afflicted with a famine, and 
sent for corn from Alexandria to relieve them. She be- 
came otherwise a great benefactor to the Jews, and 
built many public edifices in Judea. 

Antiqxiities of the Jews. 

HELENA, Daughter of Cod t Kinx nf Colchester, 
of the Emperor Constantino, and Mother of Constan- 
tine the Great t 

Is celebrated for her great piety, and for discovering, 
according to the superstitious opinions of the age, the 
wood of the true cross. 

F. C. 

HELOISE, or ELOISA, (Abbess of the Paraclete) 
Niece of Fulbert, a Canon of the Church of Notre Dame, 
at Paris-, died 1163 ; 

SHE had scarcely reached her eighteenth year, when, 
by her beauty, learning, and elegance, she attracted the 
notice of Peter A belard, a young but celebrated doctor 
of theology ; who took advantage of the parsimony of 
her uncle, to introduce himself into the house as a 
lodger, and to grant, as a favour to him, lessons in phi- 
losophy, which he wished to give his niece, as a means 
ef enjoying her society, and ingratiating himself into her 

Fulbert, vain of Heloise's talents, and anxious for her 
improvement, complied but too readily with his scheme, 
and her innocence fell a victim to the admiration and 
love her young preceptor inspired. On discovering the 
truth, her uncle, almost distracted, forbade their inter- 
views ; but they contrived to meet, till it became im- 
proper for her to remain where she then was, and Abe- 
lard took her oft', by stealth, to his sister's, in Britanny, 



where she had a son. Determined to save her reputa- 
tion as much as was now in his power, her lover then 
went to her uncle, and after the first storm of his pas- 
sion was over, proposed to marry her ; but wished, for 
a while, it might be kept secret. At length the old man 
acceded ; hut when Heloise heard his determination, 
she objected forcibly to it, on the score of Abelard's 
interest as a theologian. Hb celebrity, and his hopes 
of rising in the church, she affirmed would be ruined by 
this match. He saw, that, regardless of her own in- 
terest, she considered only his; and his affection could 
less than ever submit to a sacrifice far less delicate than 
generous. The injunction of secrecy was repeated, and 
they were married ; but, anxious to wipe out the blot 
from his family* her uncle quickly spread abroad .the 
report. Heloise as pertinaciously contradicted it; which 
so irritated Fulbert, who considered her husband only 
as to blame, that by an act of vengeance, he separated 
them ; but, at the same time, forfeited his own bene- 
fices, and became an object of general detestation. 

Abelard, in consequence, de-term ined to leave the 
world, for a convent ; but it was necessary for his peace 
that Heloise should do the same, which she scrupled not 
to do, making her profession, in her C 2 c 2d year, as a nun 
of Argenteuil, a few days before lie took Upon him the 
order of St. Denl where the licentious manners of the 
mo"ks vakened Irs ensure, and, inrrm^-quence, their 
hatred and persecution. He fled from ti in I > other re- 
treats ; but the same unhappy destiny continually pur- 
sued hiri. 

Heloise , hti ' * '.e* j n chosen pr<^v^ : , r.f Ar- 

ger.teuil,on ti. ! soiuti . i of that monastery for the dis- 
orders of the nuns, appred to Abelnrd for advice, who 
obtained the assignment of the Paraclete, in Cham- 
pagne, a house he had built, to her, where she founded a 
nunnery, and, by her exemplary rond-ict obtained ge- 
neral respect and admiration. 'They, at first, as dear 
friends who needed each other's counsel, sometimes met ; 
R- 4 but, 


but, after a while, found, that instead of consoling, 
these visits made them more unhappy, and discontinued 
them ; when an epistle from Abelard to a friend, in 
which he. recapitulated the misfortunes of his life, fell 
into the hands of Heloise, and caused those beautiful 
and impassioned letters, which have been preserved to 
posterity. In those written by her she complains, that 
even when she affected to devote her heart to God, it was 
fixed upon an earthly being, whom she could not yet 
tear from it. She'ap pears to ease her heart by revealing 
its.weakness ; but Abelard, at length, put an 'end to the 
dangerous indulgence, and, after new troubles and persecu- 
tions, died 1142, in the (53d year, of hi sage. Heloise sur- 
vived him twenty years, employing her time in study 
and the duties of her vocation. She was skilled in all 
the learned languages, in philosophy, mathematics, 
and the study of the holy scriptures. Her letters are 
written in Latin ; and she appears, both in person and 
mind, to haye been the most accomplished woman of her 

F. C. Letters, &c, 

HELENA, an Egyptian femak Painter, 
PAINTED the battle of Issica, which Vespasian 
placed in the Temple of Peace. 

Abecedario Pittorico. 

HERBERT (MARY), Countess of Pembroke, 
A GREAT encourager of letters, and herself an inge- 
nious poet. Her character on the whole may be fairly 
judged from the epitaph. 

Underneath this sable hearse 
Lies the subject of all -verse, 
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother. 
IJeatfi, ere tliou hast slain another, 
Fair and learned, good as she, 
Time shall throw a dart at thee. 




Bom at Paris 1664; died 1734 ; 
RECEIVED from her father, who was a man of learn- 
ing, an education conformable to his own taste, and her 
progress more'than equalled his expectations. She won 
prizes in several academies, was received into that 
of the Ricovrati, in Padua, and com posed many works 
popular in her day. She was not only celebrated for her 
literary talents, but for the sweetness of her disposition, 
the elegance of her manners, and her unaffected mo- 
desty. She opened her house twice a week for the re- 
ception of company, but being rather straitened in her 
income, M. de Chauvelin, then minister of state, made 
a little addition to it, by procuring her a pension of four 
hundred livres from the crown. She translated sixteen 
of Ovid's Epistles into French verse; and amongst her 
prose writings are, La Tour Tenebreuse, or History of 
Richard, King of England, some Memoirs, and little 
historical anecdotes. In her poetry there is a sonnet, said 
to have been written by the above prince in his confine- 
ment, and to have fallen into her hands. 

Mrs. T-hicknesse. 

NAU, LANDGRAVINE OF), Wife of William V. 
Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, and Regent after his Death, 
Born 1602 { died 1651. 

RENDERED her name celebrated by her courage and 
political wisdom.' 

IN concert with Christina of Sweden, and the queen 
of France, she made war, and helped to pull down the 
exorbitant power of Spain and Germany. She main- 
tained an army of twenty thousand men /as well for the 
defence of the state, as for the annoyance of her enemies 
and those of her allies. 



She entered on the regency at a time when the coun- 
try was wearied by the wars of her husband, who died 
young in 1637. Those who wished to invade it, 
amongst whom were some of her relations and neigh- 
bours, believed they had found a proper time to put 
their design in execution; but they soon repented, when 
they found they had to encounter a woman who had the 
heart of a hero, and the head of a consummate politi- 
cian. She drove them from her dominions^ and forced 
them to make peace; yet, during her regency, she had 
110 relaxation : battles and sieges continually occupied 
her generals, who followed her counsels and commands. 
She heard' good news without improper exultation, and 
bad with decent composure. She was prompt in deci- 
sion, indefatigable in business; eloquent, penetrating, 
and prudent; if her opinion in debate was not followed, 
it was inevitably that which she judged best and wisest, 
and herself preferred , on consideration, to her own. She 
was so highly esteemed in foreign courts, that extraordinary 
honourc were paid to her envoys and ambassadors. She 
was loved and feared by her people ; understood many 
languages; spoke with grace, and wrote with judgment; 
aftable, generous, and grateful for past services; she 
was the protectress of literature, and the friend of the 

At the peace of Westphalia, she consulted the inte- 
.rests of Hesse Cassel so ably, that of all the princes con- 
cerned, none in proportion reaped greater advantages 
than her son, to whom, in IfoO, she surrendered her 
dominions, which had been considerably enlarged during 
the regency. 

HIJYWOOD (ELIZA), a most voluminous English 

Writer; bom 1693; died 1756. 

HER latter and best works are, Female Spectator, 4 
\ols; Epistles for the Ladies, Svols; Fortunate Found" 



lin<r, 1 vol; Adventures of Nature, 1 vol; Betsy Thought* 
less, 4 vols; Jenny and Jemmy Jessamy, 3 vols; Invisi- 
ble *Sp?/, 2 vols; Husband and Wife, 2 vols. all in I2mo. 
and a pamphlet entitled, A Present for a Servant Maid. 
When young, she dabbled in dramatic poetry; but with 
no great success, none of her plays being either much 
approved at tirst, or revived atterwards. 

HILDA (ST.) Princess of Scotland, 
WAS learned in scripture, and composed many reli- 
gious works. She opposed strenuously the tonsure of the 
priests, supposing it, perhaps, a superstitious or a hea- 
thenish observance. She built the convent of Fare, of 
which she became abbess, and died there in (J8.3. 

HILDEGARDIS, a famous Abbess of the Order of St. 

Benedict, at Spanheim, in Germany, 
WHOSE prophesies are supposed to relate to the refor- 
mation, and to the destruction of the Romish see; and 
had great influence oTer the minds of people about 
the time of the Reformation. She flourished about the 
year 1146. The books in which these prophesies are 
contained are quoted in an old English ecclesiastical his- 
tory, and appear to have been written l>y a zealous, .god- 
ly, and understand ing woman, disgusted with the vices 
of her own age, and foreseeing that they would still bring 
forth more. Shocked that crimes and hypocrisy should 
pollute that holy religion in which her hope was ground- 
ed. She wrote also a poem upon medicine, and a book 
of Latin poems. 

HIPPARCHA , a celebrated Lady, who flourished in the 
time of Alexander, 

ADDICTED herself to philosophy, and wrote some 
things which have not been transmitted drown to us ; 
among which were tragedies, philosophical hypotheses, 




or suppositions ; some reasons and questions proposed to 
Theodoras, surnamed the Atheist, c. She married the 
philosopher Crates, notwithstanding his poverty, defor- 
mity, and the opposition of her parents, conforming, 
from her love to learning, cheerfully to his way of life. 
She had a son by him, named Pasicles. 


THE daughter of Chiron the centaur, is numbered 
with the most celebrated Grecian philosophers. 

F. c. 

HOPTON (SUSAN), of the Family of the Hoptons, in 
Staffordshire, Wife of Richard Hop ton, of Kingston,. 
in Hereford, one of the Welsh Judges in the reigns of 
Charles II. and James II. Bom 1627 ; died 1709, aged 

SHE, when very young, was induced by the argu- 
ments of Turbeville, a Romish priest, to embrace his 
religion, but afterwards returned to the Protestant faith, 
and addressed a learned letter to him, in which she sta- 
ted her reasons for doing so. She was extremely devout 
and charitable, devoting five days in every week to reli- 
gious duties, and rising early, with other voluntary mor- 
tifications. A volume of her prose works on religious 
subjects were published, with a preface, containing an 
account of the author. She wrote and published also 
some religious poems. 

Female Worthies. 

HORTENSIA, a Roman Lady, Daughter of Horten- 

sius the Orator, 

OF great wit and eloquence, as a speech preserved by 
Appian demonstrates; which, for elegance of language, 
ami justness of thought, would have done honour to a 
Cicero or Demosthenes. What gave occasion to it was, 



that the triumvirs of Rome wanted a large sum of mo- 
ney for carrying on a war; and having met with diffi- 
culties in raising it, they drew up a list of fourteen hun- 
dred of the richest of the ladies, intending to tax them. 
These ladies, after having in vain tried every method to 
evade so great an innovation, at last chose Hortensia for 
their speaker, and went along with her to the market- 
place, where she addressed the triumvirs, while they 
were administering justice, in the following words: 

" The unhappy women you see here imploring your 
justice and bounty, would never have presumed to ap- 
pear in this place, had they not first made use of all 
other means their natural modesty could suggest. 
Though our appearing here may seem contrary to the 
rules prescribed to our sex, which we have hitherto 
strictly observed, yet the loss of our fathers, chil- 
dren /brothers, and husbands, may sufficiently excuse 
us, especially when their unhappy deaths are made a 
pretence for onr further misfortunes. You plead that 
they had offended and provoked you ; but what injury 
have we women done, that we must be impoverished? 
if we are blameabie as the men, why not proscribe us 
also? Have we declared you enemies to your country? 
Have we suborned your soldiers, raised troops against 
you, or opposed you in the pursuits of those honours 
and offices which you claim? We pretend not to go- 
vern the republic, nor is it our ambition which has 
drawn present n is.ortunes on our heads : empire, digni- 
ties, and honour*, are not for us; why should we, then, 
contribute to a war in which we have no manner of in- 
terest? It is true, indeed, that in the Carthaginian war, 
our mothers assisted the republic, which was, at that 
time, reduced to the utmost distress; but neither their 
houses, their lands, nor their moVeables, were sold for 
that service; some rings, and a few jewels, furnished 
the supply Nor was it constraint or violence that 
forced these from them : what they contributed was the 
voluntary offering of generosity. What danger at pre- 



sent threatens Rome ? If the Gauls or Parthians were 
encamped on the baiiks of the Tiber or the Anio, you 
should find us not less zealous in the defence of our 
country than our mothers were before us ; but it becomes 
not us, and we are resolved that we will not be any way 
concerned in a civil war. Neither Marius, nor Caesar, 
nor Pompey, ever thought of obliging us to take part in 
the domestic troubles which their ambition had raised; 
nay, nor did ever Sylla himself, who first setup tyranny 
in Rome, and yet you assume the glorious title of refor- 
mers of the state, a title which will turn to your eternal 
infamy, if, without the least regard to the laws of equi- 
ty, yo*u persist in your wfcked resolution of plundering 
those of their lives and fortunes who have given you 
no just cause of offence.'* 

Struck with the justness of her speech, and offended 
at its boldness, the triumvirs ordered the women to be 
driven away ; but the populace growing tumultuous, 
they were afraid of an insurrection, and reduced the list 
of those who should be taxed to four hundred. 

Alexander's Hist, of Women. 

LA GARDE, MADAME DES), Daughter of Mel- 
chior Du Ligter, a, Gentleman of good Family , but 
small Fortune, and born at Paris under the Reign of 
Louis XIII. in 1633 or 1638; died at Paris 1694 ; 

WAS so highly distinguished for her poetical talents, 
as to be ranked among the first of the French poets. 
She was well versed in Latin, Italian, and Spanish, in 
each, of which she wrote with facility and elegance. She 
attached herself more particularly to the study of her 
own language and the rules of French poetry, her taste 
for which commenced at an early age; and though she 
possessed great beauty , both of face and figure, and was 
perfectly elegant and pleasing in her manners, she seem- 


ed ambitious only of acquiring that kind of admiration 
which flatters great minds. 

But with all these advantages, Madame des Houlieres 
was far from being happy. Her works breathe every 
where murmurs against fortune. In 1651, at the age 
of eighteen, her parents married her to M. des Houli- 
eres, lieutenant-colonel in the service of the Prince of 
Conde, who was obliged shortly after to accompany 
that prince in his expedition to Rocroj, which was at- 
tended with success, and by which Monsieur des Hou- 
lieres was raised in the army ; but being led into extra- 
ordinary expences to support his newly-acquired ho- 
nours, his affairs were thrown into the utmost embar- 
rassment, and most of his effects seized. To add 
to his misfortunes, his pay was also stopped; upon 
which, Madame des Houlieres went in person to court, 
and presented a petition in behalf of her husband ; but 
no notice being taken of it, she made loud complaints, 
which was looked upon as a crime, and for which she 
was arrested, and conducted a prisoner to the castle of 
Vilvorden, two leagues from Brussels. 

As soon as M. des Houlieres was informed of his 
wife's confinement, he solicited her liberty ; but find- 
ing there were little hopes of obtaining it, marched 
to Vilvorden with some soldiers, forced the fortress, and 
carried her off in triumph; but he would undoubtedly' 
have suffered for this resolute action, had not a general 
pardon been at that very time proclaimed, of which he 
opportunely took advantage. He, however, obtained 
soon after employment in the king* s service,' and his wife 
pursued her poetical studies. 

The earliest of her works that remain are of the year 
1658. She composed a number of elegies, epigrams, 
songs, madrigals, odes, sonnets, idyls, and tragedies, 
but her idyls and moral retlections are the most esteem- 
ed. For a long time she contented herself with shew- 
ing her works to friends, who spread their reputation 
abroad; but, on their solicitation, she printed a volume 



in 1688, which met with general applause from people 
of laste. She was preparing a second when she died in the 
beginning of the second year of her widowhood, aged 56. 

In the pastoral stile of writing, Madame des Houlieres 
has shewn uncommon genius. She was honoured with 
the friendship and esteem of the first personages of the 
age in which she lived, among whom were the dukes de 
Saint Agnan, de Montausier, de la Rochefoucault, de 
Nevers, the marshal de Vivonne, and the bishop of Nis- 
mes. Her talents procured her all the literary honours 
to which she- was so justly entitled^ being admitted into 
the academy of Aries, in Provence, and in that of the 
Ricovrati, at Padua ; and the praises she gave to Louis 
XIV. in many of her works, obtained from this prince 
a pension of two thousand livres, which made her spend 
the evening of her days in comfort. 

Her daughter inherited her mother's poetical talents, 
but in an inferior degree. Their works are usually bound 
up together. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. 

HUBERT (MADEMOISELLE), a Protestant of 

Lyons, and a celebrated Writer; died 1753; 
WROTE on many subjects, and ventured on some 
theological enquiries, which, as she was a Protestant, 
might at that time have brought her into trouble. She 
was well acquainted with the English language, and 
translated the Spectators' into French. 

HULDAH, a Jewish Prophetess, Wife of Shallum, a 

Man of high Family in the Time of Josiah ; 
WHO, on reading 'the prophecies, was struck with hor- 
ror at the misfortunes that were in store for his people. 
He sent to beg Huldah to appease heaven by her pray- 
ers, and turn away those judgments from her country- 



men ; but she answered , that the decrees of God were 
not to be changed, though particular piety, such as that 
of Josiah, should not go unrewarded. 

Antiquities of the Jews. 

GER OF), second Daughter of Washington., second 
Earl Ferrers ; born 1707; married, 1728, Theophilus, 
Earl of Huntingdon, by whom she had issue four Sons 
and three Daughters ; and died 1797, Qged 85, having 
been a Widow 45 Years. 

THIS lady is said to have received her first impres- 
sions on the importance of a religious life when only 
nine years old, at the funeral of a child about her own 
age. With many tears, she prayed earnestly upon the 
spot, that whenever it should please God to take her 
hence, he would support and deliver her. She practis- 
ed during her youth frequent private prayer, and when 
grown up and introduced into the world, made it her 
petition that she might marry into a religious family. 
She accordingly became the wife of the earl of Hunting- 
don, a respectable man, whose habits and connec- 
tions were serious and well disposed. Though some- 
times at court, and visiting in the higher circles, she 
maintained a peculiar steadiness of conduct, taking no 
pleasure in fashionable amusements. In the country she 
was bountiful and benevolent, and earnestly pursued that 
path she thought most acceptable to her Maker. 
-About this time, the sect called Methodists began to 
be much spoken of. Lady Margaret Hastings, the sis- 
ter of Lord Huntingdon, way one of the number, and 
Lady Huntingdon, on her recovery from a dangerous 
illness, embraced their pinions, and her profes- 
sions and conduct appeared very strange to the circle 
in which she moved. Some even advised Lord Hun- 
tingdon to interpose his authority; but, though he dif- 
fered from her in sentiment, he continued to shew her 



the same affection and respect He desired , however, she 
would oblige h : .m by Conversing with bishop Benson on 
the subject, to which she readily agreed ; but the confe- 
rence was not pjductive of any change. 

During Lord Huntingdon's life, her means were ne- 
cessarily circumscribed, and family affairs occupied her 
attention, but she devoted a considerable portion of time 
to the poor. These she relieved in their necessities, vi- 
sited in sickness, conversed and prayed with. On his 
death, the entire management of her children and their 
fortunes was left to her, Which last she improved with the 
greatest fidelity. 

Countenancing more especially the followers of Mr. 
Whitfield, as she was herself inclined to the Calvinis- 
tic persuasion, she opened her house in Park-street for 
the preaching of the gospel, supposing, as a peeress of 
the realm, she had a right to employ, as her family 
chaplains, those ministers of the church whom she pa- 
tronised. On the week days, her kitchen was open 
to the poor who wished for instruction ; and on Sun- 
days the great and fashionable were invited to spend the 
evening in her drawing-room, where Mr. Whitfieid, 
Mr. Romaine, &c. occasionally preached. 

The illness of her younger son leading her to Bright- 
helmstone, she erected a little chapel contiguous to her 
house: it was afterwards enlarged, and that not suffi- 
cingjto con tain the congregation, it was a third time taken 
down and rebuilt. In Bath, Oarhall, Bretby, and various 
other parts, places of worship were also erected by her. 
At first, she selected her ministers from those of the 
established church, but her zeal enlarging with her suc- 
cess, j-id a great variety of persons throughout the 
kingdom begging her assistance, in London, and many 
of the most populous cities, she purchased, built, or 
hired, large and commodious chapels. These multi- 
plied exceedingly through England, Ireland, and Wales, 
and the inin: ters she had hitherto employed iound 
themselves unequal to the task, and some became un- 


willing to move in a sphere which began to be branded 
as irregular, and to meet with opposition. She, there- 
fore, followed the steps of Messrs. Wesley and Whit- 
field, by inviting the aid of laymen to keep up the con- 
gregations she had established. 

In order to provide proper persons for this purpose, 
she retired into Wales, where she erected a college for 
training up young men to the ministry. They were 
itinerant, moved from one congregation to another in 
an established rotation, and her correspondence with 
them, to regulate and provide a constant supply, was 
a labour to which her active spirit alone was equal. 

Though Lady Huntingdon devoted the whole of her 
substance to these purposes, it is not a little surprising 
how her income sufficed for the immensity of expences 
in which she was necessarily involved. Her jointure 
was no more than twelve hundred pounds a-year, and 
only after tile death of her son, a few years preceding 
her own, she received the addition of another thousand. 
She ofteji involved herself in expences in building, but 
her debts were always honourably discharged. 

To the age of fourscore and upwards, she main- 
tained all the vigour of youth; and, though in her 
latter years the contraction of her throat reduced her 
almost wholly to a liquid diet, her spirits never seem- 
ed to fail her, and to the very last days of her life, 
her mind was active in her favourite pursuit. 

Lady Huntingdon was rather above the middle size, 
her mien dignified, her address particularly pleasing, 
and her mind acute, diligent, and indefatigable. She 
was so little given to self-indulgence, that a friend used 
to say, she was one of the poor who lived upon her own 
bounty. Her temper was warm and sanguine; no dis- 
appointment quenched her zeal, uo labours slackened, 
no opposition discouraged, or progress of years abated 
but her prejudice actualities were sometimes fan- 

tastic. From the success attending her efforts, she 
seemed impressed with an idea that a particular bene- 


diction would rest upon whomsoever she sent forth^and 
was impatient of contradiction. That simplicity and truth 
which will always secure esteem from the wise, appears 
to have gained Lady Huntingdon the respect of many 
who disagreed with her in principle. Her son, who was 
unfortunately of the infidel school, still highly reve- 
renced his venerable mother. 

At her death, Lady Huntingdon left her chapels to 
trustees and executors for the continuance of the same 
plan, which is still pursued,- though the property she 
left for that purpose was seized, on her death, by the 
Americans of Georgia and Carolina, where it lay. 

Her unbounded benevolence bore the best testimony of 
the purity of her intentions, having, in the course of her 
life, expended above one hundred thousand pounds in 
public and private acts of charity. 

Dr. Haweis' Hist, of the Church of Christ, &c. 


A MOST beautiful, virtuous, and learned lady of antiquity, 
daughter of Theon, who governed the Platonic School at 
Alexandria, the place of her birth and education, in the 
latter part of the fourth Century. Socrates tells us, that 
Hypatia "arriyed at such a pitch of learning, as very tar 
to exceed alj the philosophers of her time." But our no- 
tions of her will be prodigiously heightened, when we 
consider, that succeeding her father, as she actually did, 
in the government of the Alexandrian School, she taught 
out of that chair wh?re Ammonius, Hierocles, and many 
great and celebrated philosophers had taught; and this 
at a time, too, when men of immense learning abound- 
ed both at Alexandria and in m my other parts of the 
Roman empire. She was murdered about 415, in con- 
sequence of the factions which rent that city, by the fol- 
lowers of St. Cyril. 




THE emperor Theophilus having assembled the most 
beautiful young women of the empire, for the purpose of 
chusing a wife, fixed upon Icasia, and gave orders for 
he? coronation ; but on her answering some questions he 
proposed to her, in a manner at once learned and acute, 
he changed his mind. Icasia, therefore, retired into a 
monastery, where she composed many works. 

F. C. 

IRENE, a Female Grecian Painter, 
DAUGHTER and disciple of Cratinus. She painted a 
child, which was hung up in the temple of Ceres. 

Abec. Pitt. 

IRENE, Daughter of the King of Bulgaria, and Wife 
to Leo IV. Porphyrogenitus, Emperor of the East, 
WAS banished by her husband, because she hid images 
beneath her pillow, the worship or honorary homage of 
which the Greek church disapproved , and the emperor 
was particularly zealous against. But coming afterwards 
to the government, during the minority of her son Con- 
stantine, with whom she was associated in the em- 
pire, this ambitious princess re-established that wor- 
ship, which she is said to have loved from policy no less 
than choice. Both artful and cruel, towards the close 
of the century, she deposed and murdered her son, by 
putting out -his eyes, and reigned alone. She made 
Charlemagne, the new emperor of the west, a proposal 
of marriage. This proposal was made with a view to 



htr Italian dominions, which she was informed he in- 
tended to seize; and the marriage treaty was actually 
concluded, when Nicephorus, the patrician, conspired 
against Irene, seized her in her bed, and banished her 
to a nunnery in the island of Lesbos* 

After her fall, she requested to be allowed a decent 
competence, but was denied by those she had raised to 
splendour. She was forced to earn a scanty subsistence 
by her distaff, and died in penury the same year, 802. 

During her reign, she had submitted to be tributary 
to the Saracens. She governed under the direction of 
two ambitious eunuchs, who were perpetually plotting 
against each other. 

Russel's Modern Europe , Andrew's Great Britain. 

ISABELLA, (Daughter of Philip the Fair, King of 
France ) married to Edward II. King of England, in 
the Year 1303, or 1307- 

THE follies and vices of this king laid the foundation 
for those of Isabella, who saw herself neglected by her 
husband, and insulted by his favourites. The scorn in 
which the people held this monarch was sometimes 
extended to his wife. She made a journey of devotion 
to Canterbury, and wished to lodge in a castle by the 
road side, but was denied admittance. The master, a 
discontented baron, was absent, and his wife refused to 
permit her entrance. The queen appearing to insist 
upon it, six persons of her suite were killed by the gar- 
rison. As the enemy of the Spencers, the then fa- 
vourites of Edward, she ought to have been kindly 
received by his and their enemies ; but they saw in her 
only the wife of a monarch they despised. Ed ward , accus- 
tomed to indignities, would have borne it, but Isabella 
would be revenged. He therefore presented himself in 
arms before the castle, which was taken by force ; and 
the- executions, by which this was followed, only 
served farther to irritate the spirits of the people. 



Alienated from her husband, if she had ever loved 
him, and discontented with her situation, Isabella, un- 
der pretence of reconciling him with his brother, passed 
into France. Her real motive was very ditFerent, and she 
went to arm him against her husband, and to demand 
succours against the Spencers, who continually insulted 
her. Whilst she was innocent, she would not have 
dared to have risked such an action ; but become culpa- 
ble by the example of her husband, emboldened by her 
passion, and excited by the interest of a lover, Robert 
Mortimer, the most beautiful and accomplished knight 
of the age, she hazarded every thing. 

It was not surely for the Spencers to be severe, nor 
for Edward to be jealous ; and the first should have 
contented themselves with governing the king, without 
persecuting her. They undertook, however, to inform 
him of his wife's infidelity, and Edward renounced her 
society : this perhaps was what both desired, and they 
should have stopped there ; but his favourites feared 
Mortimer more than Isabella. They sent him to the 
Tower of London ; he was twice condemned to death, 
and twice pardoned : they wished to retain him all his 
life in prison, but he escaped and fled to France : and 
the war rekindled between France and England , was a 
new pretenee for the Spencers to persecute Isabella. 
They pretended she held intelligence with the enemy, 
and, under this pretence, Edward despoiled her of the 
county of Cornwall, which she enjoyed in virtue of a 
custom established then in France and in England, to 
give particular domains to the queens for the mainte- 
nance of their households. . 

After having, in this manner, attacked her in her in- 
clinations and her fortune, they had the folly to send her 
to France, and thus confide to her the interests of the state. 
Her first words were complaints of an unjust liusband 
and his insolent ministers. Charles the Fair, her bro- 
ther, seeing her lament and weep, was touched with 
compassion, and promised to find a remedy for her sor- 
rows . 


rows. The council, however, agreed that they could not 
make war upon such a subject; but that the king might 
secretly assist her with money. Charles, rather diffi- 
dently, told his sister the answer, with which she ap- 
peared satisfied ; and a peace being concluded, seemed 
to have fulfilled the object of her journey. Yet she re- 
mained in France, where Mortimer had joined her ; 
and her brother, displeased with her conduct, saw her 
but seldom, treated her coldly, spoke little to her, but 
did not send her back. 

Edward demanded her haughtily one sees not why. 
Isabella answered, that she would not return till the 
Spencers were banished for ever. From this time 
she had the English people on her side. The Spencers 
condemned her and her sons, as enemies of the state, 
and declared war against France, without considering that 
this was the way to make Charles the Fair openly 
take her part ; but this prince, consulting honour 
more than they did prudence, constantly refused 
his assistance to a sister whom he judged unworthy 
of it, and contented himself with giving her an asylum. 
Neither the arms, nor the intrigues of England, 
being able to make him send her back, the pope at 
length enforced it. She was therefore commanded to 
leave the ^kingdom speedily, or be driven from it with 
disgrace. x He did more ; gained, they say, as well as 
his council, by the money of England, he forbade any 
Frenchman to accompany Isabella to England, or to 
embrace her quarrel. 

It appeared that the charms of this princess had 
gained her many partisans, as well in France as Eng- 
land. The earl of. Kent, the king's brother, was como 
.to join her. Robert d'Artois, her cousin, had a tender 
friendship for her, and all the zeal of chivalry. He 
came in the middle of the night, to tell her that the 
council had resolved to arrest her, the earl of Kent, and 
Mortimer, in order to deliver them up to the English. 
He counselled her to retire into Hainault ; and could 



not have given her better advice. She found there, in 
John, brother of the earl of Hainault, a new knight, 
yet more zealous, more affected by the recital of her suf- 
ferings, than Robert d'Artois had been -, he vowed to 
replace her upon the throne of England ; and when 
his brother, to whose second daughter the queen had 
married her son, prince Edward, represented the dan- 
ger and uncertainty of such an enterprize, he answered, 
He had but one death to die, and every loyal knight 
ought to assist, to the utmost of his power, ladies in 
distress. He departed with 3000 men only, not doubt- 
ing that a queen, so beautiful and unfortunate, would 
meet with defenders ; and his romance proved true. 
He disembarked with her- in a port of Sussex, where 
her army increased at every step. The king and the 
Spencers shut themselves up in Bristol. Isabella besieged 
and took it. The Spencers were put to death in a most 
cruel manner, and she began to be less interesting to 
her followers. 

Her husband was shut up in the castle of Kenil- 
worth, and Isabella sent to demand the great seal of 
him, to convoke the parliament, which was to depose 
him. He was deposed, degraded, and insulted; and 
the pity of the people began to be raised. The hypo- 
critical tears which the impudent Isabella affected to shed 
for the fate of her husband, as if that fate had not de- 
pended upon her, but only upon the nation, could not 
impose upon them. She and Mortimer teared the ef- 
fects of this pity. 

The death of Edward was resolved, and that it might 
be without bodily marks, was executed in a manner 
too horrible to mention. The people could suffer it no 
longer, and her son shuddered to consider himself as an 
instrument to all these abominations. He made Morti- 
mer be arrested in the anti-chamber of the queen, who, 
bathed in tears, and her voice stifled with sobs, cried, 
(t My son ! my dear son ! spare the gentle Mortimer." 
But Edward was inexorable. Isabella was shut up in 

s a castle. 


a castle. Some authors have said, that her days were 
shortened. The constant opinion is that she lived twenty- 
eight years in that prison. Froissard, a contemporary 
vvdter, says, " that she was well treated , that she had 
servants to attend, ladies to keep her company, gentle- 
men of honour to guard her, revenue sufficient to main- 
tain her rank, and that the king, her son, came to see 
l;er two or three times a }'ear." The last crime of Isa- 
bella and Mortimer was the beheading of the earl 
of Kent. 


ISABELLA, of Bavaria, Daughter of the Duke of Ba- 
varia-, born A.D. 1371 ; 

ESTEEMED one of the greatest beauties of the age. 
Charles VI. king of France, on seeing her, became deeply 
enamoured, and married her at the age of fourteen, 
JoS5 ; and Isabella, with the crown on her head, was 
conducted in a covered waggon to the cathedral of 
Amiens, where they received the nuptial benediction. 
Afterwards, when she made her public entry into Paris, 
the presents made, on the occasion, by the citizens, 
were carried to her apartment by two men, one of 
whom was disguised as a bear, and the other as an uni- 

In the year 13&2, the king was attacked with that 
dangerous delirium which, except some lucid intervals, 
^.trended him through life : and, in one of these, the 
ii-een, with four princes, were appointed guardians of 
i-hildren. Hitherto Isabella had appeared as an af- 
fectionate wife ; but from the king's illness, and the at- 
1 ructions of the duke of Orleans, his brother, she began 
to regard her husband with disgust. Violent, vindic- 
rive, mid intriguing, she had a heart open to flattery, 
-,iv.d susceptible of every lawless passion. The power 
of the duke was supported by the queen ; and so intirely 
- they occupied by their pleasure and ambition, 



that the king and his children were often left without 
food and clothes ! 

The duke of Burgundy, a vile and ambitious man, 
called John the Fearless, envied the power and superi- 
ority of Orleans, and procured his assassination, in 
1407; The greatness of this daring crime- seemed to 
produce universal stupetaction ; but he soon made the 
king proclaim an approbation of his conduct, though arms 
were frequently had recourse to. In the queen's party, 
were the young princes of Orleans, headed by the count 
d'Armagnac, and thence called the Armagnac faction ; 
but Paris opening its gates to Burgundy, the queen 
and dauphin fled, and the most dreadful proscriptions 
followed. The mob became ungovernable by him who 
had raised it ; and Burgundy, in his turn, retiring with 
precipitation, the queen again entered Paris ; and in- 
stead of improving the moment, gave herself up to vici- 
ous pleasure ; of which Armagnac at length informed 
the king, who had hitherto been ignorant of ker crimes, 
and he caused her to be confined at Tours. Isabella, 
eager for revenge, applied to the duke of Burgundy to 
release her ; and forgetful of her late inveterate hatred to 
(he assassin of Orleans, she saw in a man, whose soul 
was familiarized to every deed of darkness, a fit instru- 
ment of her vengeance: he seized with joy the invita- 
tion, set her at liberty ; and, accompanied by her de- 
liverer, she performed the first acts of htr new admi- 
nistration at .Chartres. A. new seal was engraven for 
public deeds, representing on one side, the queen ex- 
tending her arms towards the earth < on the reverse, the 
arms of France and Bavaria. The title she assumed 
was : " Isabella, by the grace of God, Queen of France, 
holding for my Lord, the King, the Government and 
Admininistration of this Kingdom, by the irrevocable 
Grant made to us by my said Lord and iiis Council." 
Arriving at Troyes, she called a parliament, gave 
away many of the principal offices of state, and exercised 
the various functions of royalty. 

~s2 Afc 


At length a pacification was effected ; the queen and 
Burgundy were invited to Paris, and the latter with the 
dauphin associated in the government. But the dau- 
phin was instructed to reject this in famous. association ; 
and the -people, who hail hoped for peace and relief 
from the burdens of war and taxes, flew to acts of des- 
peration, declaring themselves the partisans of Bur- 
gundy, who was still at Troyes with the queen. This 
vile couple intimating to them that nothing less than the 
total annihilation of the Armagnac party would engage 
them to re-enter Paris, inexpressible horrors were im- 
mediately committed by the blood-thirsty Parisians; 
near 4000 being massacred in three days. Exulting in the 
success of their infernal schemes, the queen and her pro- 
fligate, associates now made their triumphal entry, with 
an escort of 1200 men at arms : the streets still stained 
with blood, shed in their quarrel, by their orders were 
strewed with flowers, and the whole city re-echoed with 
music and sounds of joy. Isabella appearing in a car 
richly decorated, while her dress displayed her luxurious 
mind, alighted at the hotel of St. Paul's, where her 
husband aAvaited her arrival. She did not dread his 
presence ; but, superior to reproach, dead to remorse, 
and insensible to shame, the blush of modesty and con- 
science had long ceased to flush her cheek, which was 
alone tinged with the glow of vice. 

The senseless monarch received her as a beloved wife, 
arid his treacherous kinsman as an affectionate friend. 
They exercised sovereign authority in Paris, and the 
streets again flowed with blood. In this second mas- 
sacre 14000 persons, of which 5000 were women, were 
murdered. Charles VI. died in 1422. The duke of 
Burgundy was afterwards assassinated at a conference 
with the "dauphin, 1419 ; though it is thought by many 
lie was not privy to the design. 

Thus the ambitious, vindictive, and cruel Isabella pub- 
licly had twice seen the object of her affections murdered, 
and fired with indignation, she resolved to complete the 



infamy of her character. She had long since violated the 
duties of a wife and queen, and now determined to 
silence the voice of nature ; abjuring the name of mo- 
ther, she immediately caused a violent declaration to be 
published, denouncing vengeance against the dauphin 
and his adherents, as murderers of the duke of Bur- 
gundy, ordering a dreadful proscription to be published 
every week, and then implored the assistance of Eng- 
land, which was in France every where victorious, and 
invited the son of Burgundy to- join the common cause. 
Within a fornight after the duke's death, Henry V, was 
offered the crown of France, with the princess Cathe- 
rine ; and entered into a treaty with the queen and 
new duke against the dauphin. Henry became king; 
but, by his early death, Charles VII, recovered part of 
his dominions, 'and, in 153o, concluded a treaty with 
the duke of Burgundy. The grief and disappointment 
the unnatural Isabella felt at this success of her son,, 
terminated her wretched existence. She died in 143 j, 
despised by the English, and detested by the French. 

Gy {lord's Franqe.- 

ISABELLA, Queen of Spain. 

HENRY IV. king of Castile and Leon, having wearied 
out his subjects by his indolent and licentious life, in 
1464, they declared him deposed, and elected his bro- 
ther, Don Alphonso, a boy of twelve years of age, king 
in his stead. This extraordinary proceeding was fol- 
lowed by all the horrors of a civil war, which did not 
cease till some time after the death of the young prince. 
The archbishop of Toledo, the head of the party, con- 
tinued to carry on war in the name of Isabella, the king's 
sister, to whom they gave the title of Infanta ; and 
Henry could not extricate himself out of those troubles, 
nor remain quiet upon his throne, till he had signed one 
of the most humiliating treaties ever extorted from a 
sovereign. He acknowledged his sister Isabella the. 
s 3 onlv 


only lawful heiress of his kingdom, in prejudice to the 
rights of his .reputed daughter Joan, whom the mal- 
contents affirmed to be the daughter of- Don la Cueva, 
and the abandoned life of the queen gave a colour to the 

The grand object of Isabella's party was her marriage ; 
upon which, it was evident the security of the crown and 
the happiness of the. people must in a'great measure de- 
pend. The alliance was sought by several princes. r \ he 
king of Portugal offered his hand ; the king of France 
demanded her for his brother ; and the king of Arragon 
for his \ son Ferdinand. The malcontents prefer- 
red the Arragonian prince, and Isabella prudently 
made the same choice. Articles were drawn up, and 
they were privately married by the archbishop of To- 

Henry was enraged at this alliance, which, he fore- 
saw, would utterly ruin his authority, by furnishing 
iiis rebellious subjects with the support of a powerful 
neighbouring prince. He therefore disinherited his sis- 
ter, and reestablished the right of his da tighter. A furi- 
ous civil war desolated the kingdom. The names of Joan 
and Isabella resounded from every quarter, and were 
every where the summons to arms. But peace was at Vrought about, 1474. Henry was reconciled to 
his sister and to Ferdinand; though it does not appear 
that he ever renewed -her right to the succession ; ibr ho 
attinned, in his last moments, that he believed Joan to 
be his own daughter. The queen swore to the same 
effect; and Henry left a testamentary deed, transmit- 
ting the crown to this princess, who was proclaimed 
queen of Castile, at Placentia. But the superior for- 
tune and arms of Ferdinand and Isabella prevailed, and 
the king of Portugal was obliged to abandon his niece 
und intended bride, after many ineffectual struggles 
and several years of war. Joan sunk into a convent, 
when she hoped to ascend a throne; and the death of 
Ferdinand's lather, which happened about this time, ad- 


ded the kingdoms of Arragon and Sicily to those of 
Leon and Castile. 

Ferdinand and Isabella were persons of great pru- 
dence, and, as sovereigns, highly worthy of imitation ; 
but they did not seem to have merited all the praise 
that were bestowed upon them by the Spanish histo- 
rians. They did not live like man and wife, having all 
things in common ; but, like two princes in close alli- 
ance. They neither loved nor hated each other ; 
were seldom in company together, had each a sepa- 
rate council, and were frequently jealous of one ano- 
ther in the administration. But they were inseparably 
united in their common interests; always acting upo.i 
the same principles, and forwarding the same ends. 
Their first object was the regulation of their govern- 
ment, which the civil wars had thrown into the great- 
est disorder. Rapine, outrage, and murder, were be- 
come so common, as not only to interrupt commerce, 
but, in a great measure, to suspend all intercourse be- 
tween one place and another. These evils the joint so- 
vereigns suppressed by their wise policy, at the same 
time that they extended the royal prerogative. By sup- 
porting a society, called the Holy Brotherhood, formed 
to apprehend and carry delinquents to punishment, and 
other salutary measures, prompt and impartial admi- 
nistration was restored, and with it tranquillity and 

But, at the same time they were giving vigour to 
civil government, and securing their subjects from vio- 
lence and oppression, an intemperate zeal led them, 
1480, to establish an ecclesiastical tribunal, equally con- 
trary to the natural rights of mankind and the mild 
spirit of the gospel, the Inquisition. The same zea], 
however, which thus led to the depopulation and bar- 
barising of Castile and Arragon, led also to their ag- 
grandizement. The kingdom of Granada alone re- 
mained of all the Mahometan possessions In Spain. 
Princes equally zealous and ambitious, like Ferdinand 
s 4 and 


and Isabella, were naturally disposed to think of in- 
creasing their hereditary dominions, by expelling the 
enemies of Christianity, and extending its doctrines. 
Every thing conspired to favour this project, when, in 
1483, Ferdinand entered Granada. He continued the 
war with rapid success. Isabella attended him in se- 
veral expeditions, and they were once in great danger of 
being taken ; but at length, in 149&, the king ot "Gra- 
nada capitulated, and his dominions were annexed to 
their crown ; which ended the empire of the Arabs in 
Spain, after it had continued about eight hundred 

The great Columbus, a Genoese navigator, who, 
perfectly acquainted with the figure of the earth, con- 
ceived the idea of another hemisphere, after having, 
unsuccessfully, applied to his countrymen and to Portu- 
gal, for means to make this grand discovery, had laid 
his proposals before the court of Spain, where lie 
had long suffered all that supercilious neglect which 
unsupported merit so often meets with from men of 
office, who are too apt to despise what they do not 

Ferdinand and Isabella were then engaged in the con- 
quest of Granada. The Spanish treasury was exhaust- 
ed ; but no sooner were the Moors subdued, but the am- 
bitious mind of Isabella seemed to sympathize with the 
bold spirit of Columbus. She offered to pledge her 
jewels, in order to furnish him with a fleet ; and by her 
means it was effected. On his return, he was much 
honoured, ordered into the presence of Ferdinand and 
Isabella, and desired to sit covered, like a grandee. 
Royal favour beamed on him with unremitting bright- 
ness; and the pope having issued a bull, granting to 
the sovereigns of Spain all the lands they had or should 
discover, an hundred leagues to the westward of Azores, 
a larger and well-furnished fleet was assigned him. 
He went ; but though he prosecuted his discoveries with 
the greatest success, a nc\v governor of Hispaniola, a 



place he had conquered and colonized, was appointed, 
and he was sent home in chains. His patroness, queen 
Isabella, was no more, and he died a martyr to the in- 
gratitude of Ferdinand in an obscure retreat at Vala- 

Russel's Modern Europe. 

IS AURA, (CLEMENTIA) a Lady of Toulouse, in 

the 14J/1 Century, celebrated for her Learning. 
IT is believed she instituted the Jeux Floraux there, 
where prizes were bestowed on the successful poetical 
competitors. She at least left to it. a considerable be- 


ISJE, (a Japanese Princess), lorn 868, 
WHOSE works are still said to be highly esteemed In 

F C. 

F. G. 


WROTE eloquent epistles to popes Nicholas V. and" 
Fius II.; also a Dialogue, in which it was disputed whe- 
ther Adam or Eve sinned first. 

ITHA, (Daughter of Godfrey, Count of Calw, and Wife 
ofGuelph,or Welpko, Governor of Bavaria, onihedeath 
of his Brother, Henry the Haughty, who having aspired to 
the Empire, in Opposition to Conrad, who had. been 
unanimously elected, died in the Contest. J 
THE war, however, was still carried on by his brpthe* 

Guelph,. who, with his principal followers, were ' 

s 5 si- 


sieged in the castle of Weinsberg ; and having sus- 
tained great loss in a sally, were obliged to surrender at 
discretion. The emperor, however, instead of using his 
good fortune with rigour, granted the duke and his 
chief officers permission to retire unmolested. But 
Itha, suspecting the lenity of Conrad, with whose en- 
mity against her husband she was well acquainted ; 
and trusting more to the romantic and capricious no- 
tions of honour in the age, than to simple generosity, 
begged that she and the other women in the castle, 
might be allowed to come out with as much as each of 
them could carry, and be conducted to a place of safety. 
The request was granted, and the evacuation im- 
mediately performed ; when the emperor and his army, 
who expected to see every one loaded with jewels, gold, 
and silver, beheld, to their astonishment, the duchess 
and her fair companions, staggering beneath the weight 
of their husbands. The tears ran down Conrad's 
cheeks; he applauded their conjugal tenderness, and 
an accommodation with Guelph and his adherents was 
the consequence of this act of female heroism. This 
affecting incident happened in the year 1141. 

JAND BIBI, Queen of Deccan, in Hmdostan, in the 
16th Century, 

WAS a wise and able princess. She maintained her 
dominions in peace and prosperity, and repulsed, with 
success, the attacks of the Moguls, who wished to sub- 
jugate them to their emperor. 


JANE, Daughter of Henry I, King of Navarre , married 
1284, at the Age of 13, to Philip the Fair, King of 
France. Died 1304, aged 33. 
THTS prince had the same good fortune as his rival, our 

Edward the First, in being tenderly and faithfully at- 


tached to his wife, and in possessing a woman of 
courage, sense, and virtue, " who held," says Meze- 
ray, *' every one chained by the eye, ear, and heart, bs- 
ing equally beautiful, eloquent, and generous." The 
count de Bar, kinsman to the king of England, invaded 
Champagne, the patrimony of Jane, who w r ent in per- 
son to defend it, gave battle to the enemy, delivered 
orders herself in the midst of the combat, vanquished 
and took prisoner the count de Bar, whom she brought 
in triumph to Paris. She governed Navarre and Cham- 
pagne, the administration of which the king always left 
to her, with wisdom, as she defended them with bra- 
very. She founded, with royal magnificence,, the co> 
lesfe of Nsrvarre, a long time the school of the French 
nobility, and the honour of the university of Paris, and 
was the protectress of the learned. 

Riralite de la France ct de TAngleterre, tc- 

JANE, Countess of Montfort , flourished 1341 and 134'2. 

The count de Montfort, heir male of Britanny, had 
seized that duchy in opposition ta Charles of Biois, th? 
French king's nephew, who had married the grand- 
daughter of the late duke. Sensible that ha could ex- 
pect no favour from Philip, Montfort made a vovai;^ 
to England, and offered to do homage to Edward III. 
as king of France, for Britanny, pro posing a strict air-l- 
ance for the support of each other's pretensions. 

Little negotiation was necessary to conclude a treaty 
between two princes connected by their immediate in- 
terests. But the captivity of the count, who was takm 
prisoner by the enemy, which happened soon after, 
seemed to put an end to all the advantages naturally to 
be expected from it. The affairs of Britanny, how- 
ever, were unexpectedly retrieved by Jane of Flanders, 
daughter of Lewis, count de Nevers, and wife of Do 



Montfort. Roused by the captivity of her husband from 
those domestic cares to which she had hitherto entirely 
confined herself, she boldly undertook to support the 
falling fortunes of her family. When she received the 
fatal intelligence, instead of giving way to despair, the 
failing of weak minds, she instantly assembled the inha- 
bitants of Rennes, where she then resided, and taking 
her infant son in her arms, conjured them to extend 
their protection to the last male heir of their ancient so- 
vereigns; expatiated on the resources to be derived from 
England, entreating them to make one daring effort a- 
gainst an usurper, who, being allied to France, would 
sacrifice their ancient liberty as the price of assist- 
ance. In short, she harangued them in a strain so bold 
and so pathetic, that it spoke to their hearts, and in- 
spired them with a portion of her own enthusiastic ar- 
dour: they resolved to defend her with their lives and 
fortunes. She then made a progress through all the 
other fortresses of the duchy, and induced them to adopt 
similar measures ; visited the garrisons, and provi- 
ded every thing necessary for sustenance and defence; 
and having secured the whole province from surprise, 
shut herself up in Hennebonne, attending the English 
succours, and sent her son over to England. Charles 
of Blois opened the campaign, expecting soon to termi- 
nate a war merely conducted by a woman. Rennet 
soon surrendered to him. He next proceeded to Hen- 
ncbonne, where the brave countess commanded in pu- 
son. The garrison, actuated by her presence, made a 
vigorous defence. She herself performed prodigies of 
valour; clad in complete armour, she stood foremost 
in the breach, sustained the most violent assaults., and 
flying with active 'vigilance from post to rampart, 
encouraged her troops, and displayed skill that would 
have done honour to the most experienced general. 
Perceiving, one day, that the besiegers, occupied in a 
general attack, had left their camp unguarded, she 
immediately sallied forth by a postern with five hundred 



men, set fire to their tents, baggage, and magazines, 
and created so universal an alarm, that the enemy de- 
sisted from the assault, to cut off her communication 
with the town. Finding herself intercepted, she gal- 
lopped towards Auray, which she reached in safety. 
Five days after, she returned with her little army, cut 
her way through part of the camp, and entered the town 
in triumph.. 

At length, however, so many breaches were made in 
the walls by reiterated assaults, that the place was 
deemed no longer tenable, and the bishop of Leon, not- 
withstanding the prayers and remonstrances of the 
countess, had determined to capitulate; he was actually 
engaged in a conference respecting it with Charles of 
Blois, \\hen the countess, who had ascended a lofty 
tower, and was casting an eager look towards the sea, 
descried a fleet at a distance. She instantly ran into the 
streets, and exclaimed, in a transport of joy " Succours! 
succours! the English succours! no capitulation!" 
Nor was she mistaken: the English fleet soon after en- 
tered the harbour, and the troops, under the command 
of Sir Walter Manny, sallied from the city, attacked 
the camp of the besiegers, and reduced it to ashes. 
" On Sir Walter's return from this successful expedi- 
tion," says Froissard, " the countess went forth to 
meet him with a joyful countenance, and kissed him 
and his companions two or three times, like a valiant 
lady." Edward himself afterwards undertook her de- 
fence. The count, who had been released through a 
treaty between England and Philip, still attempting to de- 

- fend his rights, was slain, and Edward undertook the 
cause of his son. Afterwards, in 1346, Charles of Blois 
having come with his troops to the assistance of a for- 

. tress she had reduced, she attacked him in his entrench- 
ments in the night, dangerously wounded, and took him 

Gifford's France. Modern Europe, ,tc. 



JANE, Countess of Westmoreland, eldest Daughter of 

Henry, Earl of Surrey, who was beheaded 1546-7; 

Wife of Charles, Earl of Westmoreland, by whom 

she had four Daughters. 

THIS lady made such a surprising progress in the La- 
tin and Greek tongues, under the instruction of Mr. 
Fox, the martyrologist, that she might stand in compe- 
tition with the most learned men of that age. The lat- 
ter part of her life was rendered very unhappy by the 
misconduct of her husband, who engaged in an insur- 
rection in the north, in 1569, for which he was adjudged 
a traitor; and in consequence his goods and lands 
were confiscated, and himself sentenced to death, which 
he escaped by fleeing beyond sea, where he lived long in 

Female Worthies. 

Lady, in the \lth Century, Native of Alengon, in 
Normandy, where her Father was Provost. Died 

At the age of nineteen or twenty, reflecting on the 
smallness of her fortune, she went to Paris, where, 
though she had little beauty, she soon became sought 
for the charms of her understanding. M. Ville-Dieu, 
an amiable man, possessed of a good fortune, paid his 
addresses to her, and married her ; but it was not long 
before his death plunged her in grief, and she retired to 
a nunnery; but, being a woman of spirit and viva- 
city, did not continue long there, but came again 
into the world, and married, secondly, M. de la 
Chate, whom she also buried. , Being greatly af- 
flicted with this new misfortune, she absolutely renoun- 
ced marriage, yet her ear was always open to love ad- 
dresses, which she answered in little poems and letters. 
By one- of her letters, wherein she gives a very agree- 


able description of the Hague, it appears she had been 
in Holland. She is said to be the inventor of novels or 
romances taken from familiar life and incident, which 
she wrote with such a pleasant vivacity, that the long 
romances of eight or ten volumes, as those of Cyrus, 
Cleopatra, Cassandra, &c. were seldom read afterwards. 
Mr. Bayle tells us, that at first she set out in this long 
way, and laid a plan to contain one of several volumes, 
designing to represent under fictitious names, and with 
some alterations, the adventures of a great lady, who 
married beneath her dignity; but, being threatened 
with the resentment of the persons concerned, drop- 
ped her design, and devised the new way of novels. 
Her works were soon after printed in ten volumes, and 
reprinted at Paris in 1702. 

JOAN, Queen of Naples. 

ON the death of Hobert of Anjou, king of Naples, in 
1343, his kingdom, which was in a flourishing condi- 
tion, descended to his grand-daughter Joan, who had 
married his relation, Andrew, brother to Lewis of 
Anjou, elected king of Hungary; a match which 
seemed to cement the happiness and prosperity of that 
house, but proved the source of all its misfortunes. 
Andrew pretended to reign in his own right; and Joan, 
though but eighteen years of age, insisted that 
he should only be considered aa the queen* s husband. 
A Franciscan friar, called brother Robert, by whose ad- 
vice Andrew was wholly governed, lighted up the flames 
of hatred and discord betwen the royal pair; and the 
Hungarians, of whom Andrew's court was chiefly com- 
posed, excited the jealousy of the Neapolitans, who 
considered them as barbarians. It was therefore resolv- 
ed, in a council of the queen's favourites, to put Andrew 
to death. He was accordingly strangled in his wife's 
antichamber ; and Joan married the prince of Tarentum, 
who had been publicly accused of the murder of her 



husband, and was well known to have been concerned' 
in that bloody deed. How strong a presumption of her 
own guilt! 

In the mean time, Lewis, king of Hungary, brother 
to the murdered Andrew, wrote to Joan, that he would 
revenge his death on her and her accomplices. He ac- 
cordingly, in 1348, set out for Naples by the way of 
Venice and Rome, carrying along with him a black 
standard, on which was painted the most striking co- 
lours of his brother's murder. He ordered a prince of 
the blood, and one of the accomplices in the regicide, to 
be beheaded. Joan and her husband fled into Provence, 
where, finding herself utterly abandoned by her subjects, 
she waited on pope Clement VI. at Avignon, a city of 
which she was sovereign as countess of Provence, and 
which, with its territories, she sold to that pontiff. Here 
she pleaded her cause in person before the pope, -and 
was acquitted. 

Clement's kindness did not stop here. In order to en- 
gage the king of Hungary to quit Naples, he proposed 
that Joan should pay him a sam of money; but, as am- 
bition or avarice had no share in his enterprize, he gene- 
rously replied, " I am not come hither to sell my bro- 
ther's blood, but to revenge it!" and, as he had partly 
effected his purpose, he went away, 1352, though the 
kingdom of Naples was in his power. 

Joan recovered her dominions only to become 
more wretched; for on the death of Clement, the Ita- 
lians raised Urban VI. to the pontificate, and the French 
chose Clement VJI. This occasioned a civil war in 
Italy ; but at length Urban prevailed, and Clement, 
being expelled, retired to Avignon, the former residence 
of the French pontiffs, and Joan first experienced the 
effects of the former's vengeance. 

This princess had imprudently espoused the cause of 
Clement ; had been four times married, on the death of 
the prince of Tarentum to the prince of Main, 
whom she beheaded for having a mistress, and then 



to Otho of Brunswick, with whom she lived 
but had no children by any of her husbands ; she 
therefore adopted Charles de Durazzo, the heir to her 
kingdom, and the only remaining descendant of the 
house of Anjou in Naples. But Durazzo, unwilling to 
wait for the crown till her death, associated himself with 
pope Urban ; who crowned him king of Naples, at 
Rome, in 1380, on condition he should bestow the prin- 
cipality of Capua on his nephew ; deposed Joan, and 
declared her guilty of heresy and high treason. 

These steps being taken, the pope and Durazzo 
marched towards Naples in 1382. The church plate 
and la,nds were sold to facilitate the. conquest. Joan, 
mean while, was destitute of both money and troops. In 
this extremity, she invited to her assistance Lewis of 
Anjou, brother to Charles V. of France. But Lewis, 
whom she had adopted in the room of the ungrate- 
ful Durazzo, arrived too late to defend his benefactress, 
or dispute the kingdom with his competitor. The 
pope and Durazzo entered Naples, after having defeated 
and taken prisoner Otho, the queen's husband. All re- 
sistance appeared vain, she attempted to flee, but fell 
into the hands of the usurper, who, in order to give 
colour to his barbarity, declared himself the avenger of 
the murdered Andrew. Lewis, king of Hungary, was 
consulted in regard to her fate, and replied, she must 
suffer the same death she had inflicted on his brother, 
and Durazzo ordered her to be smothered between 
two mattresses in 1383. Thus perished the famous 
Joan, queen of Naples, of no moral virtue, but a 
woman of magnificence and generosity, a lover of 
learning, and a patroness of learned men : she was cele- 
brated by Petrarch and Boccace, and her life and catas- 
trophe have a singular resemblance to those of Mary, 
queen of Scotland. 

Modern Euiope. 



JEZEBEL, Dmtgliter of Ethbaal, King of Sidon, and 
of Ahqb, King of Israel, 

FAMOUS in Scripture for encouraging her husband in 
injustice; for her cruelty, impiety, and hatred of the 
prophets. Thrown from the top of her palace by the or- 
ders of Jehu, successor to Ahab, whom she had attired 
and painted herself to attract. Her body was devoured 
by dogs, 884 B. C. 


JUDITH, a Widow of Bethulia, in Judea, of the Trile 

of Simeon. 

WHEN this city was reduced to the utmost extremity 
by Holofernes, Judith was struck with the idea that she 
perhaps might save her country. She was a woman of 
majestic beauty, and dressing herself with great splen- 
dour, repaired to the camp of the general, who was 
smitten with her charms, and received her with joy. 
The same day he invited her to supper with him, and 
during the repast became drunk with wine, in which 
situation his attendants placed him on the bed, and left 
him. Judith no sooner saw the coast clear, than she 
took his sword, cut off his head, and carried it off in a 
bag to Bethulia, where she was received with applause 
and gratitude. In the morning the Assyrians found 
the dead body of Holofernes, and took to flight. 

JUDITH, Qveen of Abyssinia. 

MENILEK, the son of Solomon and the queen of She- 
ba, or Saba, having brought over from Jerusalem the 
books of the law of Moses, and many learned doctors, 
to instruct his people in the faith, established the suc- 
cession of his family to the throne; and his people em- 
bracing the Jewish religion, remained in it till about 



(tie year 330 after Christ, or a few years later, when 
they received the Gospel ; but the cro>wn continued in. 
the same family, as it has done till the present day, with 
only two interruptions, one of which is the subject of 
this article, in the tenth or eleventh century. 

In one family of the Jews, an independent sovereign- 
ty had always been preserved on the mountain of Sa- 
rnen, and the royal residence was upon a 1 high- pointed 
rock, called the Jew's Rock. Several other inaccessible 
mountains served as natural fortresses for these people, 
now grown very considerable, in consequence of acces- 
sions of strength from Palestine and Arabia, whence 
the Jews had been expelled, Gideon and Judith were 
then king and queen, and their daughter Judith (whom 
in Arfilhara they call Esther, and sometimes Saat, i. e, 
fire] , a woman of great beauty and talents for intrigue, 
had been married to the governor of a small district cal- 
led Bugna, in the neighbourhood of Lasta, both which 
countries were likewise much infested with Judaism, 

Judith, in fine, had made so strong a party, that she 
resolved to attempt the subversion of the Christian reli- 
gion, and with it the succession in the line of Solomon. 
The children of the royal family were, in virtue of the 
old law, confined on the almost inaccessible mountains 
of Damo, in Tigre. The short reign, sudden and un- 
expected death, of the king Aizor, and the weak state 
of Del Naad, who was to succeed him, yet an infant, 
with the desolation an epidemical disease had spread 
both in court and capital, impressed her with the idea 
that now was the time to place her own family on the 
throne, and extirpate the race of Solomon. According- 
ly she surprised the rock Damo, and slew all the princes 
there, to the amount, it is said, of four hundred. Some 
nobles of Amhara, upon the first news of the cata- 
strophe at Damo, conveyed the infant king Del Naad, 
novr the only remaining prince of his race, into the 
powerful a\id loyal province of Shoa, and by this means 
the royal family was preserved to be again restored. 



Judith, nevertheless, took possession of the throne in 
defiance of the laws of the queen of Suba. By this, the 
first interruption of the line of Solomon; and contrary 
to what might have been expected from the violent 
means she had used to acquire the crown, not onlv en- 
joyed it herself during a long reign of forty years, but 
transmitted it to live of her descendants. After this, 
the line of Solomon was restored in the descendants of 
Del Naad, who, in the mean time, had continued their 
residence at Shoa, without making one attempt, as far 
as history tells us, towards recovering their ancient 

Brucc's Traveli, 

JULIA, Daughter of a Priest of the Sun in Syria, Wife 
of the Roman Emperor Septimus Severus, who married 
her because it had been predicted she was born to Roy" 
alty, and by whom she had Caracalla and Gcta. 

UPON the throne passionately loved, or appear to love, 
literature ; either from taste, from a desire of instruc- 
tion, from a love of renown, or po:>sibly from ail these 
together, she passed her life with philosophers* 

Her imperial rank, perhaps, was not sufficient to con- 
quer noble hearts, but she joined to it the charms of wit 
and beauty. These various attractions rendered unne- 
cessary that management which consists in cunning, and 
which, by observing dispositions and foibles, governs 
great souls by little means. She obtained the title of 
philosopher, out her philosophy was not equal to en- 
dowing her with morals. Her husband, who did not 
love her, esteemed her genius, and consulted her upon 
all affairs; and she, in some measure, governed during 
the reign of her sons, though she had the misfortune of 
seeing one slain by his execrable brother, whose excesses 
she inwardly murmured at, when she dared not openly 

Julia was, in short, an empress and a politician, oc- 


cupied at once by the sciences, affairs of state, and 
pleasure. She had courtiers for her lovers, men of 
wor .vied ere for her friends, and philosophers 

for her courtiers. In the midst of an enlightened so- 
ciety, she presided with distinction ; but for want of the 
more solid merits of a female character she obtained, 
during life, more praise than respect, and from poste- 
rity more feme than esteem. 

Essay by M. Thomas. 

JULIA MOESA, Grandmother of the Emperor Helioga- 

A GRAND politician, and a virtuous woman ; who, 
though her ambition was gratified by seeing him seated 
on the throne, chiefly by her conduct and courage, 
strove to counteract the bad counsels of his mother, and 
to bring him back to common sense and duty. She saw 
that the Romans would not long bear such a shameful 
yoke, and to retain the sovereignty, in that case, to her 
family, she engaged the emperor, who still retained his 
respect for her, to adopt his cousin Alexander Severus 
for his successor. Thus did the wisdom of Moesa se- 
,coud her ambition; and, while Heliogabalus and hig 
mother were massacred by the 'soldiers, she attained a 
happy old age, universally loved and respected, and the 
emperor Alexander Severus, her grandson, had her 
placed in the list of divinities. 


JULIA MAMMEA, Mother of Alexander Severus, 
HAD also equal genius and courage; and, above all, 
she educated her son for the throne, in the same manner 
as Fenelon afterwards educated the duke of Burgundy, 
rendering him at the same time a man of virtue and 
sensibility. Severus thought so highly of his mother, 
that he did nothing without her counsel, and paid more 
deference to it than to that of any other person. This 



princess baring heard of Origen, wished to see Into* 
and in the conferences they had together, conceived 
so high an opinion of Christianity, that she is sup- 
posed to have embraced it. She was murdered with 
ner son, in Gaul, by the discontented soldiery. 

Essay by M ; Thomas, <tc. 

JULIANA, (Anchoret of Norwich} 
LIVED in the reign of Edward III. and distinguished 
herself by a "book of Revelations she wrote. But though 
she was author of so remarkable a work, and her situa- 
tion in life so very singular, yet through the negligence 
of ecclesiastics (who were almost the only men that 
transmitted intelligence to posterity) we find but very 
little recorded concerning her. Even our most curious 
and industrious biographers, who had the best oppor- 
tunity of examining manuscripts and records belonging 
to religious houses, could not trace out any memorials 
relating to this devout lady, more than an hint 'or two 
mentioned by herself in her own writings. 

R. F. Jo. Gascoyn, L. Abbot of Lambspring, ushered 
her compositions into the world, \vith the following 
title : Sixteen Revelations of divine Love, shewed to a 
devout Servant ef our Lore?, called Mother Juliana, an 
Anchoret of Norwich ; who lived in the Days of King 
Edward III. Published by F. R. S. Crossy, 1610. Vo^ 
" Her profession was of the strictest sort of solitary 
livers, being inclosed all her life (alone) within four 
walls ; whereby though all mortals were excluded from 
her dwelling, yet saints and angels, and the Supreme 
King of both, could and did find admittance. More- 
over, the place, in a high manner dignified by her 
abode, was Norwich. The time when she lived, and 
particularly when these celestial visitations were atlorded 
her, she herself, in the beginning of the book, informs 
us, was in the year 1373, that is, about three years be- 
fore the death of the famous conqueror king Edward 



III ; at which time she herself v/as about thirty years of 
age. And, in the last chapter of the book, she signifies 
that more than fifteen years alter these revelations had 
been shewed her, for resolution of a certain doubt of 
her's, touching the meaning of one of them, our Lord 
himself was pleased to answer internally in ghostly un- 

" As for the manner of these revelations, it was the 
same of which we read innumerable examples, both 
among ancient and modern saints. The objects of 
some of them were represented to the imagination, and, 
perhaps also, to the outward sight; sometimes they 
were represented in sleep, but, most frequently, when 
she was awake. But those which were more pure in 
lime, and withal more certain, were wrought by a di- 
vine illapse into the spiritual part of the soul, the mind, 
and understanding, which the devil cannot counterfeit, 
nor the patient comprehend, though withal it excluded 
all doubt or suspicion of illusion." 

" She was fai* from expecting or desiring such un- 
usual supernatural gifts. Matters stood thus with her : . 
she thought herself too much unmortitied in her affec- 
tions to creatures, and too unsensible of our Lord's love 
to her. Therefore to cure the former, she requested a 
sickness in extremity, even to death, in her own and 
other's conceit ; a sickness full of bitter pain and an- 
guish, depriving her of all outward refreshments, and of 
all inward comforts also, which might affect the sen- 
sual portion of the soul. And, for a remedy to the lat- 
ter, she begged of the Lord, that he would imprint on 
her soul, by what way he thought best, a deep and 
vigorous conception and resentment of those most vio- 
lent torments, which he in his infinite love, suffered for 
her on the cross, to the end, that she miqht even be 
forced to return to him a suitable affection. " 

" Yet in making these requests, she exoressed a per- 
fect resignation (as to the manner) to his heavenly will. 
' The only graces that she did, and might, and so may 



we, desire absolutely, without any condition, were a 
true and spiritual hatred and contempt of herself, and of 
all worldly or sensual contentments ; a perfect sorrow 
and compunction for sin past, and a cordial love and 
reverence of Almighty God. These were the gifts she 
desired ; and as for the means of procuring those graces, 
she proposed the best to her seeming ; yet so, as being 
assured that Cod knew what was best for her, she left 
them to his divine pleasure/* 

Of this nun, who appears to have possessed an ami- 
able and refined understanding, though wild and mis- 
guided by her solitary life, we have no farther account. 

Female Worthies. 

MIRE) Wife of the Lord of; 

A FRENCH lady, well known for her mathematical 
knowledge, particularly by a work called, Le Quadri- 
cide, ou Paralogisme prouve Gcometriquement dans la 
Quadrature de M. de Causans, 14o. 1755. 

Letters on the Frerlch Nation. 


KHAULA, (an Arabian Heroine} 
AMONGST this- warlike and unsettled nation, when 
the flower of any tribe went upon a distant enterprize, 
some hostile neighbours would often attack those they 
had left behind, and thence arose, perhaps, the custom 
of the Arabian women, even of the highest rank, at- 
tending their husbands, fathers, and brothers, in their 
military expeditions, and fighting, often with a degree 
of heroism not inferior to the fabled achievements of 



the ancient Amazons. "We have many instances of the 
day having been restored by them after the men had tied ; 
but none more remarkable than the famous battle of Yer- 
mouks, fought in the year t)3(>, which proved decisive of 
the fate of Syria, and of the Greek empire of the east. 

The Grecians greatly out-numbered the Arabians, 
and their onset was so impetuous that they drove them, 
to their tents : there the fugitives were stopped by the 
women, who alternately encouraged and reproached 
them ; they threatened even to join the Greeks.; and one 
of their bravest officers appearing disposed for flight, a 
lady knocked him down with a tent pole, saying, 
<c Advance ; paradise is before your face! Fly, and the 
fire of hell is at your back !" The chief Women then 
took the command, and made head, till night parted 
the combatants. The next day they led them again to 
the attack, a young lady, named Khaula, sister to one 
>f the principal commanders, acting as general. In 
leading the van, she was beaten to the ground by a Greek; 
when Wafeira, one of her female friends, striking otf his 
head at a blow, brought the heroine off. Animated 
by the noble behaviour of the women, the Arabs soon 
became irresistible, and routed the Grecian army, with 
the loss, it is said, of 1,30,000 killed, and about 50,000 
prisoners. Khauii was afterwards espoused by the kha- 

*' Nothing is so disgusting as unnecessary bravadoes, 
or uselessly running into dangers in women. They 
have seldom any opportunity or rather need of being 
heroines, except by sutler. ing with patience and forti- 
tude whatever pains and misfortunes may fall to their 
lot in this life. But sometimes there are occasions which 
awaken active courage ; and when duty or coaipassiou 
call for more than customary exertions, they must want 
even feminine excellence to be deaf to it ; and bereft of 
generosity, sense and feeling, to be helpless at such a 

Richardson's Dissertation on Eastern Nations. 



KETAVANE, (or MARIANNE) Wife of Alexander, 
King of Georgia , in the Beginning of the l^th Cen- 

ON the death of her husband, took upon her the ad- 
ministration of affairs, and preserved the throne for her 
eldest son. 

In 1(J13, Abbas, king of Persia, having declared war 
against the Georgians, her son, who had received the, 
reins of government, perceiving that many of the no- 
bility inclined to submission, sent his mother to Ispa- 
han, to demand pardon for him. As Ketavane was 
yet beautiful, though -stricken in years, Abbas fell, or 
pretended to fall, violently in love with her at first 
sight. He offered to marry her, if she would become a 
Mahometan ; but she refused, and he kept her in prison 
and in irons for many years. At last she was sent to 
Schiraz, where she died under the torments inflicted 
upon her by the order of Abbas, to make her embrace 


KILLIGREW, (KATHARINE) fourth Daughter of 
Sir Anthony Cooke ; born at Giddy-hall, in Essex, 
li>3() ; was married to Henry Killi grew y Esq. after- 
wards knighted ; 

AND has had a place justly assigned her among the 
learned ladies of the age, though she .does not appear 
to have been the author of any distinct and separate 
treatise. Her natural genius being improved by the 
same Excellent education which Was bestowed upon her 
sisters, she became famous for her knowledge in the 
Hebrew, Greek, and Latin tongues, and for her skill in 
poetry. A short specimen of her talent in that art has 
beeu preserved by Sir John Harrington and Dr. Tho- 
mas Fuller. On the monument erected to her me- 


mory, is an inscription composed by herself. Both the 
small pieces we have mentioned were written in Latin. 
The death of lady Killigrew was lamented in various 
epitaphs. Her si,ster, Lady Russel, wrote one, partly 
in Greek and partly in Latin verse. We know not when 
she died ; only it appears, by her father's will, she was 
living in 157(>, and that she lies buried in the church of 
St. Thomas, irv Vintry ward, London, where is an ele- 
gant monument erected to lifer memory. 

New Annual Register, &c. 

KILLTGREW, (AtfNE) poetically called GRIND A, 
Daughter of Dr. Henry Killigrew, Master of the Sa- 
voy, and one of the Prebendaries af Westminster, Au- 
thor of Sermons, Plays, fyc. ^Born in London <z little 
- before the Reformation. 

" SHE was," as Mr. Wood says, " a grace for beauty 
and a muse for wit," and gave the earliest discoveries of a 
great genius ; which, being improved by a polite educa- 
tion, she became eminent in the arts of poetry and 
painting."' Mr. Dryden seems quite lavish in her com- 
mendation; but Mr. Wood assures us, he has said no- 
thing of her, which she was not equal, if not superior 
to. Thus speaks Mr. Dryden: 

" Art she Vud none, yet wanted none, 
/ For nature did that want supp'y ; 

.So rich in treasure of her own, 
She might our boasted stores defy : 
Such noble vigour did her versa adorn, 
That it seem'd borrow 'd where 'twas only born.''* 

She was a great proficient in the art of painting, and 
drew the duke of York, afterwards king James 1L and 
also the Duchess, to whom she was maid of honour. 
She drew several historical pieces, also some portraits, 
for her diversion, and likewise some pieces of still life. 

T 2 Mr. 


Mr. Becket drew her picture in mezzotinto, after her 
own painting, which is prefixed to her poems. These 
engaging and polite accomplishments were the least of 
her perfections ; for ^he crowned ail with an exemplary 
piety, and unblemished virtue. She dud of the small 
pox, I68o t in the 25th year of her age. Upon which 
Mr. Dryden lamented her death in a very long ode. 

She was buried in the chapel of the Savoy hospital, 
on the north side of which is a neat monument of mar- 
ble and free stone, fixed in the wall, with a Latin in- 
scription. Soon after her death, a book was published, 
.entitled, Poems by Mrs. Anne Killigrew, London t 
10'8(), in a large thin quarto. 

Female Worthies. 


LABANA, a Moorish Spaniard, of a noble Family at 
Corduba, Secretary and Counsellor to Alhakemo, King 
of Spain, 

A MOST accurate poetess, skilled also in philosophy 
a*>d arithmetic ; died universally regretted in the flower 
of her age, arid the 374th year of the Hegira. 

Bibliothecx Arabico-Hispanse Escurialiensis. 

LA BE' (LOUISA), surnamed la Belle Cordiere, because 
her Husband was a Rope-maker. Born at Lyons, 

ONE of the most distinguished poets of her time, 
gained great celebrity in the reign of Henry II. by her 
wit and genius. She shewed an early disposition for 
languages and the polite arts : but what was still more 
extraordinary, she was a heroine; and the poets of her 
age have celebrated her martial exploits. We are igno- 


rant of the motives which induced her to pursue that kind 
of life; all we can learn is, that she served at the siege 
of Perpignan before she was sixteen year's of age, where 
.she took the name of Captain Loys. There is some 
reason to conclude, however, that she either followed 
her father or her lover to the field ; but the ill success of 
the besiegers obliged them to abandon the place, which 
determined the beautiful Lyonnoise to return home and 
pursue her studies. Nor was she inattentive to her fu- 
ture interest ; but endeavoured to preserve an establish- 
ment which might enable her to enjoy tranquillity ami 
affluence the rest of her life : for soon after she married 
Ennemond Perrin, a rich merchant, who held a consi- 
derable traffic in cordage, and who possessed a very 
large estate near Lyons, where he had a house nobly 
furnished, and gardens which were very spacious and 

There she collected a large library of the very best 
authors, and her house was the constant rendezvous of 
persons of distinction, and men of letters, who lived 
in or near Lyons. It was an academy where every one 
found something which might either amuse or instruct. 
The charms of wit, conversation, music (vocal and in- 
strumental) and poetry, were all employed by the muse 
who presided there, and who was excellent herself in 
all. Her cabinet was copiously supplied with books in 
the vulgar tongue, in Latin, Italian, and Spanish ; and 
it formed a part of the amusement cf her house to read 
the best authors in each. 

It is with regret I recite what a French writer says 
farther -/speaking of this extraordinary woman : " Gal- 
lantry,*' says he, " was not excluded from this agree- 
able place of study and science. The lovely Louisa was 
not willing there should be any thing wanting to com- 
plete the general satisfaction ot her visitors; but she pre- 
ferred men of rank and letters to those who were possess- 
ed of both birth and fortune." One cannot but, lament: 
T .3 that 


that she should thus have sullied such exalted taste and 

The distinguished manner in which Louisa lived at 
Lyons excited the jealousy of the ladies of that city. 
They overlooked her fine sense and accomplishments, 
and considered her only us a tradesman's wife; from 
whence they suspected that the assemblies held at her 
hou^e were more owing to her beauty than to her un- 
cvmmon talents'. But what increased this resentment 
was her writings, which ^treating of love, they con- 
sidered as so 'many lures to induce the men to attach 
themselves to her; but Louisa, in return, levelled part 
of her works at the Lyonnoise ladies, censuring them 
for the frivolous manner in which they employed their 
time, instead of improving themselves in knowledge and 
the polite arts. 

Many poets have endeavoured to appropriate her in- 
genious fiction of Love and Folly to themselves ; but the 
invention, which is its principal merit, seems due only 
to La Belle Cordiere. La Fontaine most probably took 
the idea of his fable, entitled, V Amour et la Folie, and 
F.rasmus, his Praise of Folly, from this writer. The 
other pieces which compose this lady's collection, are 
some elegies and sonnets, which are held in high esti- 
mation by the French. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. 

LAIS, of Corinth, a famous Grecian Courtesan. 

LA LA- CTZEMA, of Mysia, in Asia Minor, came and 
established herself at Rome, about 84 B. C. 

SHE became a vestal, and painted and carved in ivory 
the portraits of many Roman matrons, and, by the help 
oi a looking-glass, her own resemblance. There was none 



in her time whose pencil was move delicate or expedi- 
tious. She excelled Sopylus and Dionysius, the nuosl 
famous portrait painters of the age, and her works sold 
very dear. On account of her talents and virtue a Ua- 
tue was erected to her, which, in the beginning of this 
century, was to he seen in the Justinian Museum iit 
Rome" She flourished about thirty-three years before 

Abecedario Pittorico. F. C. 

LAMBERT (ANNE THERESA), only Daughter of 
Stephen de Marguenat, Lord of CottrcfJfas; married, 
in 1666, Henry de Lambert, Marquis de Saint BnV, 
who became Lieutenant- General of the French Armies , 
and died 1686. Madame de Lambert died I7Q<2 or 3, 
in the Q6th Year of her Age. 

HER father died when she was but three years old, 
but Bauchamont, a poet and a man of taste, having 
married her mother, perceived her talents, and cultivated 
them by an excellent education, by which means she 
early imbibed the habit of thinking deeply. Being left, 
a widow, with a son and daughter, she watched over 
them with equal care. Her house was a species of aca- 
demy, where people regularly assembled, not to play, 
but to enjoy the pleasure of rational and refined conver- 
sation, and where people of talents were always received 
with pleasure. She herself wrote in a noble, pure, 
and elegant stile, and though her writings were first pub- 
lished without her. ^knowledge, they have gained her u 
high rank in the list of moral and sentimental authors. 

The first was' a letter upon the dispute -be tw^-n Ma- 
dame Dacier and M. de la Motte respecting Ho 1 , 
and was occasioned by two letters the Jesuit' K Biifiter 
addressed to Madame Lambert on that subject. Tlx-y 
were all three afterwards published by the Abbe Eorde- 
lon in one volume, and called Homere en Arbitrage. 2, 
A Letter from a Lady to her Son, on True Glory. This' 

T 4 im- 


unknown to her, was published in Memoires de Litera- 
ture et d'Histoire, and a Hcoiul Letter to her Daughter 
Was promised by the publisher; but this she would not 
permit to be printed, yet afterwards found it necessary 
to publish both, under the title of Avis d'nne Mtreason 
Fits # a sa Fille in 1729, in ICmo- 3, Her Neic Reflec- 
tions on Women, were printed at Paris in 1727, and at 
London 1729- This work, called Met-aphysique d 1 Amour, 
v/as translated by Lokman. 4, In 1748, a volume in 
12mo. was published at Paris, containing many short 
works of hers, such as Essays on Friendship , Old Age, on 
Women, on Tatte, and Riches, 6fc. The Female Hermit, 
in the same book, was not written by her. This has also 
been translated and published in English. 

The works of this lady were reprinted in 1752 in two 
little volumes, and may be read with as much profit as 
pleasure. The morality, however, is that of the world 
and of honour, and not that of the gospel. 

Madame de Lambert preserved her taste for the belles 
lettres amidst the anxieties of a long la wsuit, during her 
widowhood, and the infirmities of her latter years, 
which she bore with a patience and courage that did her 

Mrs. Thicknesse. 

LAMBRUN (MARGARET), a Scotch Wom^ tti in the 
service of Mary, Queen of Scots, 

As was also her husband, who dying of grief for the 
sad catastrophe of that princess, his wife took the reso- 
lution of revenging the death, both of one and the other, 
upon queen Elizabeth. With this view she put on man's 
apparel, and assuming the name of Anthony Sparke, 
went to court, carrying always about her a pair of pis- 
tols, one to kill the queen, and the other herself, in or- 
der to escape justice. One day as she was pushing 
through the crowd to come up to her majesty, who was 
walking in her garden, she chanced to drop one of her 

pistols ; 


pistols ; which being seen by the guards, she was seized, 
in order to he sent to prison;' but the queen, not sus- 
pecting her to be one of her own sex, had a mind to 
examine her first. 

Accordingly, demanding her name, country, and qua- 
lity, Margaret, with an undaunted firmness, replied, 
" Madam, though I appear in this habit, I am a wo- 
man ; my name is Margaret Lambrun ; I was several 
years in the service of queen Mary, whom you have so 
unjustly put to death, and by her death you have also 
caused that of my husband. NOYY, as I had the 
greatest love and affection for both, I resolved, at the 
peril of my life, to revenge their deaths by killing you, 
who are the cause of both. I confess that I have suf- 
fered many struggles wirhin my breast, and have made 
all possible efforts to divert my resolution from this 
design, but all in vain. I found myself necessitated to 
prove the certain truth of that maxim, that neither rea- 
son nor force can hinder a woman from vengeance, when 
she is impelled thereto by love." The queen heard this 
discourse, and said, " You are then persuaded that in 
this action you have done your duty, and satisfied the 
demands which your love for your mistress and your 
spouse indispensably required from you, what think 
you is now my duty towards you?" The woman re- 
plied with the same intrepidity, " I will tell your Ma- 
jesty frankly my opinion, provided you will please to let 
me know whether you put this question in the quality of 
a queen or that of a judge?" To which her majesty "an- 
swering, in- that of a queen; then said she, " you ought 
to grant me a pardon." " But what assurance or se- 
curity can you give me, that you will not make the 
like attempt upon some other occasion?" Margaret re- 
plied, " Madam, a favour which is given under such re- 
straints is no more a favour, and in so doing your ma- 
jesty would act against me as a judge." The queen, 
turning to some of her council then present, said, ' I 
have been thirty years a queea, but do not remember 


ever to have had such a lecture read to me before,'* and 
immediately granted her a full pardon, against the opi- 
nion of the president of her council, and at her request 
a safe conduct out of the kingdom. 

Female Worthies. 

LAMIA, an Athenian Courtezan, ftoitris/ted about 300 

B. C. 

SHE was a celebrated player on the flute, in which 
character she first appeared in the world. She was the 
mistress of Ptolomy, king of Egypt; and, bein,^ taken 
from him in a naval engagement by Demetrius Poliorce- 
fes, became his, though she was much older than this 
prince, whose affections she secured by her luxury -eyen 
more than by her wit. He furnished her with immode- 
rate wealth, and then loved her for the enjoyments she 
knew how to procure with it. 


LANDI (LEONORA), of a noble Castilian Family, 

was born at Goa, but carried early to Florence, where 

her Father was Major Domo to Cosmo. 

SHE was married to Horace Landi, a noble Floren- 
tine ; but, .being exceedingly devout, obtained his per- 
mission lo retire from the world, which she did after 
some time, founding the orders of the Incarnation and 
the Trinity. She had weak health, and spent her time 
mostly in prayer and penitence, dying 1639- 

Though she only knew how to read and write, she 
had a talent for poetry, and composed in stanzas of eight 
lines many Lives of saints, in three- lined verse; a large 
volume of Spiritual songs, &c. After her death, they 
-were collected and transcribed. Crescimbeni, in his 
Histoire de Poesie Vnlgaire, says, that they abound in 
theological and moral thoughts, and charitable senti- 




LAVAGGI (ANNE), a Nun of Palermo ; died 110 }, 

aged 73. 

SHE had printed, during her life, many beautiful 
pieces of poetrv ; niore were collected after her death ; - 
and a manuscript is still in being of hers, a Prose Expli- 
cation of the Apocahjpse.. 

F. CY 

LE/BNA, Courtesan of Athens, , 

TOOK an active part in the constoracy of Harmed it;-, 
and Aristogiton against Hipparchim, son of Pisistratus. 
She was, on suspicion, arrested arid put to the tortirvo 
by Hippias, brother to the tyrant, but refused to betray 
her accomplices. Yet, alive to the severity of the tor- 
ments she endured, she was fearful that her resolution 
would not hold out long, and in the despair of a gene- 
rous mind, fearing to commit a base action, she bit 
through her tongue^ and spat it in the face of her tor- 

As soon as the Athenians recovered their liberty, they 
erected to her -honour the statue of a lion without a 

F C. 

LEAPOR (MARY), Daughter of the Gardener of Judge 
Blencowe, at Marston t in Northamptonshire', born 

SHE exhibited an early taste for poetry, which w<; 
first checked by her parents, -till they perceived the 
strong bent of her inclination ; and the praise and encou- 
ragement of friends, inclined them to let her proceed. 
She appears to have been of a melancholy turn of mind, 
probably from ill health, for she died young in 174d. 
Two volumes of poems, in which is an unfinished play, 



were published after her decease; in them she generally 
calls herself Myra. 

See her Works. 

LEBRIXA (FRANCES DE), Daughter of the cele- 
brated Antony Lebrixa, 

WAS a learned rhetorician ; and when her father was 
ill, or otherwise engaged, used to give public lectures in 
his stead, in the university of Alcala. 

LEGGE (ELIZABETH), eldest Daughter of Edward 
Legge f Esq. Ancestor to the Earl of Dartmouth ; 
born 1580. 

She was well versed in Latin, English, French, Spa- 
nish, and Irish. Whether she published or translated 
any thing is not known ; but she was blind many years 
before her death, which it was thought was occasioned 
by heVreadingand writing too much by candle-light. She 
was esteemed a good poet. She spent the greatest part 
of her life in Ireland, and died unmarried at the age 
of 105, her family being remarkable for longevity. 

Female Worthier. 

LEILA, of Granada, 

OF an ancient ,and noble family, illustrious for her 
learning and knowledge, during the time the Moors had 
possession of Spain. 

Bibliotbecae Arabico-Hispanae Escujialiensis. 

L'ENCLOS (ANNE DE), called Ninon De L'enclos; 

died 1705, aged 90 and 5 months. 
HER father was a gentleman of Touraine. He made 
her early acquainted with the best authors, and taught 



her himself to play upon the lute, which she did to per- 
fection. Being a man of pleasure, he inspired her with 
the same taste, yet did not omit giving her lessons of 
probity and honour. Her mother was a religious wo- 
man, and used to take her to church; but she always 
contrived to carry some amusing book with her, which 
she read during service. This extraordinary woman 
appears to have been inimitable for the charms of her person 
and manners. Her mind was highly polished ; yet with 
powers of reasoning to make her respected by the sage; 
she knew how to biend refinement with gaiety, candour 
and sensibility with acknowledged looseness of principle 
and life. During a long life, she was the admiration 
of the world around her, and amidst all the changes of 
fashion and time maintained her influence. The dis- 
tinguished, whether for birth or talents, sought her so- 
ciety for the gratification it aiforded them ; the young 
and aspiring, in hopes of being thereby polished and in- 
structed . 

Voltaire says, that her father was a player upon the 
lute, and that cardinal Richelieu was her first admirer, 
and Fettled on her a pension of 2000 livres, no small 
sum at that time. Othtrs say, it vas the young Colig- 
ny, duke de Chadllon, who was a Calvin ist, and with 
whom Ninon would argue for hours to detach him 
from that faith, which most likely she thought prejudi- 
cial to his interest. He abjured Calvinism accordingly 
in 1694. They had at first sworn eternal fidelity; but 
finding the sentiment die in her heart, Ninon for the fu- 
ture determined that in friendship only it was necessary 
to be faithful. 

As she was not rich, she permitted her guests to 
bring with them their separate dishes to her suppers, 
which were frequented by the first wits of the age! 
This was not an unusual custom in France. Amongst 
the wits who obtained this privilege was St. Evremond, 
who .wrote a verse under her picture, signifying, that 




wise and indulgent nature- had formed her heart with 
the principles of Epicurus, and the virtue of Cato. 

She was called the modern Leontium, from her philo- 
sophical knowledge, which received additional charms 
from her wit. At the age of twenty-two, she had a 
fk of illness, which was believed mortal; and when her 
friends lamented that she should be thus snatched 
away in the rxrime of life, she exclaimed " Ah! I 
leave only dying people in the world!" A gentleman 
who was deeply enamoured of her, not being able ta 
inspire any return, in his indignation wrote some line?, 
in which he said, he without trouble renounced his 
love, , which had lent her charms she did not in reality 
possess. Ninon immediately wrote an answer in the 
same measure, saying, that if love lent charms, why 
did he not borrow some ? 

With her friend, Marion de Lormes, Ninon thus 
led a licentious life; but the death of her mother, 
who was a virtuous and pious woman, with her 
entreaties and advice, seemed to change her heart 
.all at once. She fled to a convent, to expiate her 
errors by penitence; .but the good impression she had 
imbibed vanished with her grief, and she came 
back to the world, which received her with new ad- 

.. After the death of Richelieu and Louis XIII. the 
first years of the regency were marked by every spe- 
cies o/ dissipation ; according to the description of 
St. livremond, the friend of Ninon, " error was no 
longer called evil, and vice was named pleasure." Yet 
the queen at one time had an intention erf shutting 
her -up in a convent, but her numerous friends pre- 
vented it and the troubles which soon arose in Pa- 
ris, induced her to leave it with the Marquis de Vil- 
larceauXj with whom she retired to a seat distant 
frorn Parr, and remained three years, to the astonish- 
ment of every body. At the 'end of the civil war 
the> returned, and Ninon found her father dying, 



who tried to strengthen those principles he had first 
instilled into her mind, saying he only regretted 
that he had enjoyed so, few pleasures in proportion 
to what he might have had. He advised her, on 
the contrary, not to be scrupulous in the number, but 
the 'choice of them. The security in which he ap- 
peared to die was a consolation to his daughter; and 
she arranged her little patrimony with great prudence; 
sinking the principal, so that .she had 7 or 8000 Hvres 
annually. One motive for doing this was, the resolu-* 
tion she had made never to marry. 

The poet Scarron was in the number of her friends, 
and because his infirmities kept him at home; and 
poverty made people slight him, she would often stay 
at his house several days together, by which means 
it was filled with the polite and the learned. She now 
found him married to Mademoiselle D'Aubigne, with 
whom she commenced an intimate friendship, al- 
though the latter robbed her of the heart of De Villar- 

One of her lovers having left Paris, confided to Ni- 
non 10,000 crowns, ad the like sum to a penitentiary, 
famous for the austerity of Lis manners. On his return 
to reclaim it, the latter affected not to understand him, 
saying they received money only as gifts for the poor. 
When the young man carne to Ninon, she cried out, 
" I have had a misfortune in your absence." He 
supposed she was going to announce to him the 
loss of the money, but she continued, " I arn sorry 
for you, if yoa still love me, for,I no longer love you; 
but there is the money you confided to me." They 
then vowed an eternal friendship. Once when a gentle- 
man wa? recounting his own good qualities, to court 
her favour, she answered, '' Heavens! how many vir- 
tues vou make hateful to me." 

M-Mere was introduced to the acquaintance of 
Ninon, by Chappelle. He discovered in her, as he said, 
the essence of all talents, and the knowledge of all ages, 



and regarded her taste for ridicule as the most perfect he 
had ever met with. But, amidst the adoration of lo- 
vers and the praise of wits, Ninon was not every 
where triumphant. Wishing to draw all that were 
distinguished or great into her toils, she wanted 
to captivate a celebrated preacher, and pretending to 
be ill, sent for him as if for spiritual consolation ; 
but, on his arrival, he found her attired with elegance, 
and surrounded by luxury. She practised all her 
graces ; but to the truly good man they appeared con- 
temptible, and to her confusion, he said : " I see that 
your malady is in your heart and mind, in person you 
appear in perfect health; I beseech the Great Phy- 
sician of souls to cure you!" and left, her covered with 
shame and confusion. 

When she was past sixty, a more serious evil be- 
fel her. A son of hers had been educated under the 
name of the chevalier de Villiers, without being made 
acquainted with his birth. To finish his education, 
his father introduced 'him into her society, to 
learn those inimitable graces, and that charm which 
she alone possessed. The unhappy young man be- 
came her admirer ; and, when she was thus forced 
to reveal to him who he Avas, he rushed from her 
into the garden, and either struck with horror at 
himself, or mortified at the discovery of his disho- 
nourable birth, fell upon his sword. Ninon saw him 
expiring, and would have destroyed herself, had she 
not been prevented. She had another son, who died 
1723, at Rochelle, where he was commissary of Ma- 

After this accident, she began to change her man- 
ner of life. She laid aside the familiar name of 
Ninon, and purchased a new house in the Rue 
des Tournelles, near the Place Royal, where her 
company was sought by the most respectable .and 
brilliant of her own sex, as well as the other, amongst 
-\yas Madame de Sevigue, La Fayette, and de 



Sabliere, &c. who preferred her company to the 
most brilliant societies. Amongst the men were Roche- 
foucault and St. Evremond, who said of her, that 
" nature had begun to shew it was possible not to 
grow old." Though at the common age of decrepi- 
tude, she had none of its ugliness she had still all her 
teeth, and almost all the lire of her eyes ; so that in 
her last years you might read her history in them. 

She always remained the same, an Epicurean by 
principle, though she preserved more correct outward 
manners, and frequented the church. Madame de "Main- 
tenon, in her elevation, did not forget her old iriend, 
and offered her, i( she would become seriously de- 
vout, apartments at Versailles ; but Ninon was satis- 
fied with her present fortune, and said it was too 
late in life for her to learn to dissemble. Yet, to 
gratify the king, who wished to see her, she went 
one day to the royal chapel. 

Some of her letters are in St. Evremond's collection; 
but others were published, which were not genuine. 

She predicted the future fame of Voltaire, and left him 
a little legacy to buy books. 

The abbe de Chateauneuf made an epitaph upon 
her, of which this is a translation : 

There is nothing which death does not conquer. 

Ninon, who more than an age has served lore, 

Now submits to his powei ; 

She was the honour and the shame of her sex. 

Inconstant in her desires, 

Refined in her pleasures, 

A faithful and wise friend, 

A tender, but capricious lover ; 

Delicacy and gallantry both reigned in her heart, and 

showed the power of a combination of ths charms 

of Venus, and the sense of an angel. 

F. C. *e, 



LEONTIUM, an Athenian Courtesan, a Disciple of 
the Epicurean Philosophy, 

WHICH she defended against Theophrastus, chief of 
the sect of th& Peripatetics, and the most eloquent phi- 
losopher of his time. Her writings had success, and 
were particularly admired for the correctness and ele- 
gance of the stiie. 

She was celebrated hy the poet Harmesianax, of Co- 
lophon, in bis Elegies, and was a very learned and ac- 
complished woman,. She had a son hy Metrodorus, one 
of her own sect, and a daughter Danae, who was like- 
wise a courtesan. 


of Henry Schomberg, Duke, Peer, and Mareschal of 
France, Grand Master of the Artillery, Superintendant 
of the Finances, fyc. 

His daughter, who showed from her infancy the hap- 
piest disposition, was early accustomed to business. 
Her father acquainted her with his most important af- 
fairs, often made her read to him negociations and trea- 
ties ; dictated dispatches to her, and sometimes desired 
her to make them, as an exercise. 

She thus became accustomed to great affairs, and had 
a taste even for the most abstract sciences, which her 
extreme facility made a pleasure to teach her. She pos- 
sessed also great facility in learning languages, and a 
talent for painting and poetry, which last she exerted 
only upon religious subjects/ 

At the age of twenty she married the duke cle Lian- 
cour, who was only twenty- two. He was a dissipated 
young man; but sincerely loved and esteemed his wife, 
who made no other use of her power over him than 
to fix in his mind the principles of religion, which he 



held too 'lightly. I'hey lived together fifty-four years, 
and the duke's levity during the first eighteen never 
made the least alteration in their atFection for each 
other. She mourned in secret for his ill conduct; but 
her kindness never abated, and her patience; her good 
counsel, and her prayers, were at length heard, and a 
ray of wisdom beamed on the. heart of her husband. 
Twice had he been attacked by infectious diseases, du- 
'ring which she assiduously attended him, not only minis- 
tering to his complaints, but exhorting and instructing 
upon the vanity and nothingness of this life, and the 
wisdom of living for eternity. 

To draw him from the societies which perverted his 
principles, she beautified his country seat, so that it sur- 
passed every thing then in France. She designed the 
gardens and buildings, and presided over them herself. 
She invited to it men of literature and agreeable talents, 
and by little and little enticed him from a court, 
where he had not strength of mind to live virtuously. 

They had but one son, who fell in battle, leaving 
an only daughter, over whose education Madame de 
Liancour watched with much solicitude. This young 
lady was sought in marriage for a nephew of cardinal 
Mazarine's; but she had been already promised to ano- 
ther, and her grandmother was resolute to refuse an of- 
fer which would again lead them into the great world. 
It was suggested to her, that in that sphere they might 
be of great use by the influence of example; but she an- 
swered, it was not for them to play the saint, but the 

But in 1656, she lost her grand-daughter, and about 
the same time her brother, with whose widow she was 
obliged to have a law suit, of which she did not live to 
see the end; yet she contested with her as a friend, and 
always looked over the writing? of her counsel, that no- 
thing personally bitter or unpleasant might be intro- 
duced. Another time, a poor gentleman, who had a 



law suit against her, not having the means to be at Paris 
to carry it on, she gave him money for that purpose. 

She suffered much indisposition, pain, and trouble, 
during the last years of her life, but she bore all with 
constancy and patience. She wished to be buried at 
Liancour, and went there fifteen days before her death 
on that account. She died 1674, and the duke survived 
her but ?ix weeks. 

They found amongst her papers, beside the writings 
mentioned above, Advice to her Grand-daitgJiter, which 
is highly extolled for the piety and wisdom it discovers. 
This was printed at Paris, under the title of, Rcglc- 
toent donnti par une Dame de Haute QuaHte a Mad. , 
sa Petite-Fille, pour sa Conduite, et pour celle de sa Mai* 
son. The editor Boileau, canon of St. Honore, at Paris, 
who was acquainted with Madame de Liancour, has 
added her life to it, and some rules for her own con- 
duct, written by herself. 

We will finish this article by a trait of her genero*. 
sity. A servant who had robbed her, and afterwards in 
Anger at being dismissed, had attempted to set fire to 
the house, being fallen into sickness and poverty, she 
sent him every assistance necessary without his knowing 
the hand it came from, till she considered that perhaps 
this knowledge might abate the hate he had conceived 
against her, and make him repent his fault. 

F. C. 


of the Daughters and Coheiresses of Sir John Knevets, 

ofCharlton, in Wiltshire t Knt. 

WAS married to Thomas, earl of Lincoln, about the 
latter end of the reign of queen Elizabeth, by whom she 
had seven sons and nine daughters: she survived him 
many years, and in the year 1628 published a small but 
valuable tract, entitled/ The Countess of Lincoine s Nur- 



sery. It is addressed to tier daughter-in-law, Bridget, 
countess of Lincoln, and is an excellent proof of her 
good sense, being, as a judicious writer observes, a well 
written piece, full of fine arguments, and capable of con- 
vincing any one, that is capable of conviction, of the ne- 
cessity and advantages of mothers nursing their own 
children. By her ladyship's speaking of it as the first 
work of hers ever printed, one would imagine she had 
written more, but nothing of this kind has come to our 

Female Worthies. 

LIVIA DRUSILLA, surnamed also Julia, Wife, first, 
of Tiberius Claudius Nero, by whom she ivas Mother 
of the Emperor Tiberius; afterwards, of Augustus. 
Died in the Year 29, aged 86. 

THE father of Livia was L. D. Calidianus, originally 
of the family of the Claudii, but adopted into that of the 
Livii. After the battle of Pbilippi he destroyed himself, 
to avoid falling into the hands of the triumvirs, to whose 
party he was adverse. 

The husband of Livia was afterward of the side of 
Antony against Augustus, and with his wife and son, 
in the midst of a civil war, fled from Rome to join him 
in Sicily, where they ran a thousand dangers. On the 
marriage of Antony to Octavia, and their consequent 
reconciliation, Tiberius and his family returned to Rome, 
where the superior beauty and qualifications of Livia 
captivated the heart of Augustus; and not long after, 
though she was pregnant, and he already married, she 
became his wife; for Tiberius dared not deny Caesar 
any thing, and the latter divorced Scribonia on the day 
in which she became the mother of Julia. Livia wa*s 
proclaimed Augusta, and mother of her country. The 
Romans even pursued their flattery so far as to erect 
temples in her honour, and Augustus saw them with 
pleasure exalt to a divinity a woman whom he loved, 



who, always equal in her temper, shut her eyes on his 
irregular conduct, and as much as she could, consistent 
with that dignity she was tenaciously preserving, mixed 
in the pleasures he. had provided for others. By -this 
conduct she not only secured the affection, but ruled the 
mind of her husband. Despairing to have children by 
her, he adopted those she had had by Tiberius ; and 
she so loaded them with honours, that the sceptre could 
riot but pass, on the death of Augustus, into the hands 
of one of them. 

" Livia," says M. de Serviez, " had an enlarged and 
cultivated mind , capable of all the refinements of policy ; 
a quiet understanding, just discernment, delicate and 
enlightened taste, and a profound penetration, which, 
in the most difficult situations, always pointed out the 
best way to pursue ; so that Augustus had never any 
serious conversation with her which he did not insert in 
his journal ; yet she was lofty, proud, ambitious ; and 
though without the severe virtue of the ancient Roman 
ladies, kept up the decorum of their manner, softened 
by the most finished politeness and address. 

The unexpected death of Marcel! us the nephew, and 
Caius and Lucius the grandsons, of Augustus, whose 
deaths Livia is supposed to have caused by poison, and 
the exile of Agrippa, their younger brother, did not di- 
minish her favour or her power. Augustus even kept 
secret from her a voyage which he made to see the latter 
in his banishment. 

But this interview, which was tender and affecting, 
neither of them long survived. The death of Augustus, 
as it was supposed, was hastened by Livia, and the 
other put to death, as she affirmed, by his order. 

Someone demanded of Livia the means she made use 
of to govern so completely the mind of the emperor ; 
e< By obeying him blindly," said she, " by not attempt- 
ing to discover his secrets, and by feigning ignorance of 
his intrigues." Thus it was the governor or the lord of 
the world was deluded. He knew not that affection, if 



it cannot correct, mourns over the vices of those it loves, 
and that none can see with calmness the misconduct of 
another, but those who feel for them a portion of contempt. 

Her son, however, did not reward her ingratitude, for 
no sooner was he seated upon the throne, than he strove 
to confine her power in more limited bounds. By a 
feigned humility, he refused to suffer the decrees of the 
senate in her honour to pass, either during her life or af- 
terwards ; and yet, fearful to embroil himself with this 
able princess, he fixed his residence at Caprea. 

After the death of Augustus, Livia bore the name of 
Julia, because he had adopted her into that family, 
and instituted her heiress of a third part of his pos- 

Caius Caligula pronounced her funeral eulogium. 



A CELEBRATED poisoner in the time of Nero, who 
could make her potions of such different qualities, that 
they would give a sudden or a slower death at plea- 
sure. Nero found her so useful, that he kept her al- 
ways near him. Yet, on the poison she gave Britanni- 
cus riot being potent enough, was going to put her to 
death, and beat her with his own hands. He made 
her prepare her poisons in his palace, and for recom- 
pence not only granted her impunity for those crimes 
she committed without ,his order, but gave her large 
possessions, and pupils to learn her art. 




ONE of the most illustrious women of the seven- 
teenth century. In the year 1599, married Charles, 
Lord des Loges, gentleman in ordinary of the king's 
bedchamber, by \vhom she had nine children, of whom 
only five survived her. She died 1641, in Limousin. 
Her zeal for the reformed religion, which she constantly 
professed all her lifetime, her piety and exalted mind, 
shone with afresh eclat towards the latter end of her 
life, when she suffered, as she had already done on 
other occasions, several domestic vexations, which she 
bore with true Christian patience and constancy. Her 
piety diminished not the singular gaiety of her mind, 
yet it was sincere and fervent. Her grand-nieces, Lu- 
zerne, who retired into Holland to profess more freely 
the reformed religion, were highly esteemed for their 
piety and. other great qualities, of whom Madame de 
Aulnoy need only be mentioned.. 

Balzac celebrates her in his Latin poems, under the 
name of Urania. He speaks of her in many parts of his 
other works as the person in the world he esteemed the 
most, and as his most sincere and estimable friend; and 
mentions her reproving him severely for the too indiscri- 
minate praise he distributed in his writings. Uninten- 
tionally he has attributed some pieces of poetry to her, 
not of her own writing. In eftect, it is not at present 
well known what she did write, as nothing of hers was 
published collectively, though she was called the tenth 
muse by her conttrnpoiaries. 

Malherbe, who was tenacious of bestowing his esteem, 
was a particular friend of Mad. des Loges, as wasRacan, 
Gombaud, and almost all the beaux-esprits of that age. 
Foreigners of the highest distinction sought her acquain- 
tance when they came to Paris, and she corresponded 
with some crowned heads. 

F. C. &c. 



LOMBARD A (DAUNA), called also Nalombarda, a 
Lady of Toulouse, beautiful, amiable, and learned ; 
had great invention and poetical genius. 

BERNARD ARNOULD, brother of the count d'Armag- 
nac, having heard of her character and talents, came to 
Toulouse purposely to see her. He admired her ex- 
tremely, and always remained her firm friend. 

Some of her works are in the Vatican Library. 

F. C. 

BON, DUCHESSE DE), Daughter of Henry II. dt 
Bourbon Conde, first Prince of the Blood. Born 
1619, at the castle of Vincenncs, where her Father was 
then Prisoner. Died 1679, aged 59- 

CONCEIVED early an inclination fora conventual life; 
her father opposing it, she remained in the world, but 
from thence had a disdainful and cold air in society, 
which, however, was not proof against a' public ball, 
and the admiration her beauty excited. The world which 
she pleased began to please her, and her talents, her 
graces, began to appear, particularly at the Hotel de 
Rambouillet, where all that was refined and distin- 
guished, in Paris, met. In her 93d year, she became the 
second-wife of the Duke de Longueville, aged 47, but 
was not very happy with him. The same year she had 
the small pox, but without injury to her beauty. 

Godeaiu who frequently wrote to her, on congratu- 
lating her upon this event", said, that he had such an 
opinion of her good sense; that he believed, had it left 
marks, she would have been easily consoled. " They - 
are often," added he, " proofs of divine mercy." 

The great Conde, her brother, then due d'Enguien, 

was strictly attached to her ; but some interruption to 

their friendship happened in consequence of her thinking 

it her duty to inform her father of au attachment he 

u had j 


had conceived for a friend of hers, on which 'the 
young lady retired into a convent. The brother and 
sister were, however, soon reconciled, as appeared from 
the eagerness with which he undertook her defence 
against Madame de Montbazon. This lady, jealous of 
the princess, pretended that the count Maurice de Co- 
ligny, who was her relation, frequently visited as her 
lover. She fabricated letters to prove it, and dispersed 
them , but the queen obliged her to go to the Hotel de 
Conde, and pronounce a formal retractation of what 
she had said and written. Yet, as the duke of Guise, 
who was the lover of Madame de Montbazon, still 
continued tp spread the calumny, the count de 
Coiigny called him out in a duel /which was fatal to 
the injured person. As to the duke de Longueville, 
he took np interest in the matter; indeed, he had 
once loved Madame de Montbazon, and perhaps still 
loved her. 

In 1(544, he went envoy to Munster, and left his wife 
at Paris ; but two years afterwards, her brother engaged 
him to send for her, 'to take her out of the way of the 
prince de Marsillac, x afterwards the famous Rochefou- 
cault, whose passion fr her was well known. This af- 
fair made a second breach between Conde and his sis- 
ter ; but Madame de Longueville was in some measure 
consoled by the great honours paid her in a foreign 
country, yet she grew tired of the place, and re- 
turned* to Paris, where she .was brought to bed of a 
daughter, who lived only four years. 

The troubles o/ the minority of Louis XIV. opened 
a grand career to her ambition. Her natural indo- 
lence would have made political discussions unpleasant 
to her, had they not been developed by the prince 
de Marsillac, who, as well as herself, was irritated 
against her brother, and opposed to him the prince de 
Conti. Thus she found herself between the court and 
the faction, the mediator between them, and equally 
looked up to by Conde, Mazarin, and the Coadjutor. 


Yet they mistrusted Madame de Longueville at Paris, 
and her brother at St/Germain's. They feared their 
enmity was only feigned, and they could only persuade 
them "they were not of intelligence the one with the 
other, by widening the breach ; yet a sincere reconcilia- 
tion soon took place on the cessation of the troubles, but 
the good understanding between them was one principal 
cause of renewing them, as Madame de Longueville 
continually spirited up her brother against the court. 

She could not dispense with going to St. Germain's, 
but she would not go as a suppliant. She sent word the 
day and hour on which she would go, but was expected 
some time before she appeared. When she came, the 
court was very full, and the queen in bed. Every one 
was anxious to hear what a woman of so fine an under- 
standing would say upon the occasion; but trembling as 
if she had the fever, she only pronounced distinctly the', 
word Madame ; and the rest of her speech was so low, 
that with the utmost attention the queen could not hear 
her; and this meeting', co(d on both sides, only served 
to augment the queen's resentment. 

After the imprisonment of the princes on the 18th of 
January, 1(549, Madame de Longueville went to Stenay 
to be near M. de Turenne. It is said, this illustrious 
warrior, not content with directing her political enter- 
prizes, was deeply in love with this princess; and though 
she rejected his vows, it is certain he always remained 
her ,firm friend. During all these agitations, her lit- 
tle girl died, and she sent a letter to the Carmelite 
nuns, written in a very pious strain, o that occasion; 
and perhaps the moment after, says her historian, wrote 
another to the king of Spain, to demand troops.' againat 
the king. 

After the enlargement of the princes, Madame de 
Longueville found herself in the most brilliant situation, 
and the object of public admiration. Yet the prince de 
Conde soon renewed the civil war, though he took some 
time to determiiie upon it, and severely reprehended his 
u 2 sister 


sister and the duke de la Rochefoucault for engaging 
him in an enterprize of which they would first be weary, 
and abandon him when he had no other resource. 

Indeed, Madame de Longueville began to huve many 
subjects of disgust with life. The long's party pre- 
vailed, and her brother, though still attached to her, 
began to follow her counsels less. The duke de la Roche- 
ioucault, offended at the manner in which she had re- 
ceived the addresses of the duke de Nemours, had 
left her, as did the latter soon after; though, on his 
being killed by the duke of Beaufort, she bitterly regret- 
ted him. 

Having had permission to go to Moulins, she passed 
ten months there at a monastery, with her relation the 
duchess de Montmorenci, who was abbess; and from 
that time, though only thirty- four year? of age, she had 
no more bold projects, no more sighs for glory, no more 
taste for dominion ; and the same princess, who had pre- 
sided in Paris in the midst of a numerous court, com- 
posed of the most illustrious people in France, confined 
herself to one province, engaged in domestic duties, and 
abandoned to the rigours of penitence, 

The sincerity of her conversion was at first doubted, 
and was spoken of with scorn ; but her perseverance 
soon converted it into public esteem, and gained her the 
royal countenance. She was devout and benevolent, 
wfthout those littlenesses which often disfigure piety; 
and (he following trait of adherence to truth cannot be 

Not having been able to obtain a favour for one of 
her people of the king, she was so much hurt, that 
very indiscreet words, to say no more, escaped her; 
which were reported by a gentleman present to the 
king, and from him to her brother, who assured him it 
could not be, and that his sister had not lost her senses. 
" I will believe her, if she herself denies it,' 5 said the 
king. The prince went to her, and she concealed no- 
thing fiom him. In vain he tried, during a whole af- 


ternoon, to persuade her, that in this instance sine 
would be folly. That in justifying her to the" king, hie 
believed he had spoken truth, and that it would be 
more grateful to his majesty for her -to deny than own 
her fciulfc. " Do you wish me to repair it," said 
" by a greater, not only towards God, but towards flu- 
king? I cannot lie to him, when he has the generosity 
to put faith in me, and believe me on my word. The 
man who has betrayed me is much to x biaine ; but aftei 
all, I must not let him pass for a slanderer, which he is 

She went the next day to court, and having obtained 
a private audience of the king, threw herself ut u-- 
feet, and begged pardon for the indiscreet words which 
had escaped her, which her brother had not believed her 
capable of, but that she had rather avow her fault, than 
be justified at the expence of others. The king par- 
doned her immediately, and ever after treated her with 
Baore particular kindness than before. 

F. c. &c. 

LONGVIC (JACQUELINE DE), Duchess of Mont- 


A lady of great merit, in the sixteenth century. She 
had great, influence over Francis I. Henry II. and Cathe- 
rine de Medicis, and made the tranquillity of the J3uh- 
lick her care and study ; and it is believed, had she 
not been snatched away so scon, she would have prevented 
the commotions that afterwards broke out. She was the 
youngest daughter of John de Longvic, lord de Givri ; 
and married Lewis de Bourbon, duke of Montpensier! 
She died, August 28, 15.61, a little before the troubles 
on account of religion broke out. Manifestly discover- 
ing, during her long consumptive illness, what her hus- 
band had long suspected, that she was a protestan-t ; 
and doubtless it was by her private instructions, that 
some of her daughters were so firmly attached to the 
u 3 refor- 


reformation, for Frances tie Bourbon, her eldest, mar- 
ried, in 1558, to the duke of Bouillon, openly professed 
the protestant religion, and could not be prevailed' upon 
to quit it, notwithstanding the incredible pains her fa- 
ther took for that purpose. Charlotte, her fourth 
daughter, had been sent to a nunnery, contrary to her 
inclination. She was abbess of Joiiafe ; but as this kind 
of life did not suit, either the principles she had im- 
bibed, or perhaps her own inclination, she fled to Ger- 
many in 1572, abjured the Roman religion there, and 
married the prince of Orange. Two other daughters 
persevered in the monastic life, to which they were de- 
voted, and one married the son of the duke cle Nevers. 

Female Worthies. 

LOUIS A of SAVOY, Countess of Angoulesme, Mother 
of Francis the First, 

WHO succeeded to the throne of France A. D. 1515, 
on the demise of Louis XII. his great uncle/ and with 
whom expired fhe elder branch of the house of Orleans. 
Immediately on his accession, he raised Angoulesme 
into a duchy, from motives of filial affection. Louisa 
had been in person eminently beautiful, and even then 
the hand of time had scarcely been able to diminish 
the splendour of her charms, while the gifts of nature 
had been carefully improved and embellished by the ac- 
quisitions of art. Born with strong talents, and a 
mind active, vigorous, penetrating, and decisive, she 
aimed at the acquisition of power, and braved unappal- 
led the most furious storms of adversity. But, unhap- 
pily for the nation, her virtues were greatly overbalanced 
by her vices ; her passions were strong and impetuous, 
and to their gratification she sacrificed all that a woman 
should hold dear in life : vain, avaricious, intriguing, 
and jealous, implacable in her resentments, impatient 
of controul, and insatiate in her avarice, she thwarted 
the best concerted projects of her son, and occasioned 



the greatest distress to the nation. When Fran-cis on 
his Italian expedition left his mother regent of the 
kingdom, and after his return from it, when his* duchy 
of Milan was threatened to be invaded by the pope, and 
Lautrec was appointed its governor, Louisa, partly 
through avarice, and partly from the inveterate dislike 
she had conceived to Laucrcc, who had been rather tov> 
free in his remarks on the numerous adventure,-, to which 
her disposition had given rise, seized die three 
hundred thousand crowns, wkieh had been raised 
for the pay of the 'Milanese troops, and appropriated - 
them to her own use. Lautrec performed prodigies of 
valour, but the Swiss mercenaries, who formed the 
greater part of his army, enraged at-not receiving their 
pay, left him and retired to their own country, and 
Lautrec was obliged to return to France. The king 
was so enraged at the loss of the Milanese, that at first 
he refused to see him, but having at length obtainec an 
audience, he justified himself by imputing the disas- 
ters of the campaign to the want of the promised money. 
Francis, who was ignorant of his mother's conduct, 
flew into a violent passion with Semblancy, superintend- 
ant of the finances, peremptorily insisting on knowing . 
what was become of the money, which he had ordered 
to be sent to Italy ? the minister, a man of integrity 
and virtue, who had grown grey in the service of his 
country, confessed he had been obliged to pay it to the 
Duchess of An'goulesme, who had taken the conse- 
quences upon herself; but that infamous woman, sacri- 
ficing every principle of honour to avarice and revenge, 
had the' presumption to deny the fact, and though Sem- 
blancy, in his own defence, produced her receipt, ^he 
still persisted in the denial, maintaining that receipt was 
given for another sum of the same amount. Though 
Semblancy was justified in the eyes of his sovereign, 
and continued to enjoy his place a little longer, yet 
the vindictive Louisa soon suborned one of the clerks to 
accuse him of peculation, he was committed to the Bas- 

u 4 tile, 


tile, tried by partial judges, and at length expired on 
a gibbet. Her affections had long been fixed on the 
Duke of Bourbon, but finding her love rejected by a 
prince sincerely attached to his wife, her love was con- 
verted into hatred, and she prejudiced the king a- 
gainst him. But the death of the duchess of Bourbon 
revived her former tenderness, she sacrificed her 
resentment to love, and offered her hand to the dis- 
consolate duke. This offer being rejected with con- 
tempt, the insult wa&deemed irreparable ; the resentment 
of slighted love and wounded vanity raged with increased 
violence, and Bourbon was doomed to destruction by 
this implacable princess. A law suit was commenced 
against him, to recover some possessions he held in 
right of his deceased wife, and the criminal judges, over- 
, awed by Louisa's authority, pronounced a sentence, by 
which his estates were sequestered. Bourbon, inflamed 
by a repetition of injuries, and driven to desperation, en- 
tered into a treaty with Henry VIII. of England, and 
Charles V. of Germany, against the King of France. 

At first, Francis was successful in repelling the con- 
federated Princes, which encouraged him to attempt in 
person the recovery of the Milanese; in vain did his mo- 
ther and his widest ministers dissuade him from it, he 
was determined, and leaving the Duchess regent of the 
kingdom departed. After the fatal battle of Pavia, at 
which, after the most valorous exertions, he lost both 
his army and liberty,' he addressed Louisa in this 
laconic, 'but expressive note, '-' Madame, all is lost, 
except our honour." The kingdom was now reduced 
to a situation pregnant with clangers; the captivity of 
the king, the loss of a flourishing army, added to a dis- 
content prevailing through the kingdom, seemed to 
threaten a general insurrection. The people murmured, 
the parliament complained. In this trying emergency 
the magnanimity of Louisa was eminently displayed, and 
that kingdom which her passions had endangered, her 
abilities were exerted to save ; she assembled at Lyons, 



the princes of the blood, the governors of the provinces, 
and notables of the'realm, who came to the generous reso- 
lution of immediately paying the ransoni of the officers 
and soldiers taken at the battle of Pavia. The army and 
garrisons were recruited, and enabled to re pel an attack of 
the Imperialists, whilst Louisa conciliated the favour of 
the king of England, whom she disengaged from the 
confederacy; and to her mediation Francis acknowledged 
himself indebted for his liberty, which he recovered in 
March 1526, and was joyfully received by his mother 
and the whole nation. The terms of his liberation by 
the emperor were so exorbitant, that he never intended 
to fulfil them, and the Pope absolved him from his oaths. 
Hostilities continued, till at length, Margaret of Austria 
and the Duchess of An^ousleme met at Cambray, and 
settled the terms of pacification, whence the peace de- 
rived the name of " The ladies' peace.", Louisa died 
1571, delivering Francis from a counsellor whose passions 
had frequently endangered the kingdom which her wisdom 
and magnanimity had contributed to protect. Mindful of 
her counsel, he completed her favorite project, of annex- 
ing the duchy of Britanny to the crown. 

Gifford's France. 

LOUISA (MARGARET of LORRAIN), Daughter of \ 
Henry Duke of Guise, married in 1605, by Henry IV, j 
who was in love with her and wished to fix her at court, 
to Francis de Bourbon , Prince of Conti. 
THEY however secretly left it immediately after their 
marriage; but the prince dying in ltS14, Louisa devoted 
herselfentirely to the belles iettres, patronized the learned, 
and employed her time in studying their works and wri-j 
ting books. She was one of cardinal Richelieu's enemies, 
and he banished her to Eu, where she died 1531. She 
wrote the amours of Henry IV, under the title of Les 
Amours du Gr. Alexandre. The best edition is that in 
the journal of Henry V, 1744, 5 vols. octavo. She 
u 5 wa& 


was suspected of having married the marechal cle Bas- 
sompierre for her second husband. 

L/ Advocates Diet. 


of Mademoiselle de Scudery ; born at Paris 1680, died 


HAD very respectable poetical talents, was beautiful, 
arid possessed a fine voice, sung with much taste, and 
had great skill in music, playing on the theorbo- 
lute. She composed many cantatas, which were greatly 
admired. M. de Genlis says, there were none in the 
French language equal to those of Mademoiselle de Lou- 
vencourt. She was, above all, esteemed for her modesty 
and eloquence in conversation. 

F. c. &c 

LOTNE (ANTOINETTE DE), a learned Parisian 
Lady, Wife of John Morel, a Gentleman of Provence. 
THERE are many elegant little poems of hers printed 
in Le Tombeau de lu Reine de Navarre. 

F. c. 

AMONG other works, is well known by the following, 
which are her best: 1, La Tyrannic des Fees Detrnites, 
ou rOrigine de la Machine de Marti, 12mo. ; 2, Le Re- 
venant, 12mo. ; 3, La Princesse Lioneite et le Prince 
Coquerio, 12mo. 1743; 4, La Princesse Coque d'fEufet 
le Prince Bonbon, 12mo. 1745; 5, Bfancherose, conte t 
12mo. 1751 ; 6, Amadis des Gaules (rtduits a), 4 vols. 
12mo. ; 7, Les Hants Faits d" Esplandian (reduits dj, 
9 vols. 12mo. ; 8, LeoniHe, nwvelle, 12mo. Q vols. 

Letters on the French ISation. 



LUCAR, (ELIZABETH), Daughter of Mr. Paul 
Withy poll, born in London, loio. 

HER father gave her a polite and liberal education, 
which being improved by an excellent genius, she be- 
came exquisitely skilled in all kinds of needlework, was 
a curious calligrapher, or fine writer ; a great proficient: 
in arithmetic ; played skilfully on several sorts of music ; 
and was a complete mistress of the Latin, Italian, and 
Spanish tongues. She was a virtuous and religious wo- 
man, and died 1557, aged 27 

Sienna in 1601, and was of the same Family as John 
Guidiccioni, one of the first Italian Poets of the Wth 

DISTINGUISHED herself by her poetical talents, which 
she chiefly exerted in lyrical pieces. She excelled in 
versification, and from the variety of her knowledge de- 
serves to be classed with people of learning. She com- 
posed also three pastorals to be set to music. 

F. C. 


WHEN the Romans were at war with the Rutuli, and 
before the capital, Ardea, the siege of which went on 
very slowly, the general officers had a good deal of lei- 
sure for diversions, and they mutually made entertain- 
ments for one another in their quarters. One day, when 
Sextus Tarquinius was feasting his brothers, their kins- 
man Collatinus being of the company, the conversation 
happened to turn upon the merit of their wives. Every 
one extolled the good qualities of his own; but Col- 
latinus affirmed, that his Lucretia excelled all others. 



It was a kind of quarrel; and, in order to end it, they 
took the method that mirth and wine inspired, which 
was, to mount their horses and surprize their wives ; 
and it was agreed, that she whom they found employed 
in the manner most becoming the sex, should have 
the preference. Away therefore they galloped first to- 
Home, where they surprized the king's daughters-in- 
law all together in the midst of gaiety and diver- 
sions, who seemed much disconcerted hy the unex- 
pected return of their husbands. Frofltt Rome they 
hastened away to Collatia, the place where Col- 
latinus resided in time of peace. Though the night was 
far advanced when the princes arrived there, they found 
Lucretia up, with her maids about her, spinning and 
working in wool. The company her husband brought 
of a sudden did not discompose her, and they were all 
pleased with the reception she gave them. Sextus, 
the eldest son of the reigning prince, Tarquinius Su- 
perbus, and the -impious Tullia, was so captivated 
with her beauty, and inflamed with passion, which 
her insuperable modesty made the more violent, that 
he became exceedingly* unwilling to leave the place; 
but there was an absolute necessity for his appearing in 
the camp before Ardea. However, he found a pre- 
tence to return very soon to Collatia, and went to lodge 
at his kinsman's house. Lucretia entertained him with 
great civility and respect; and after supper he was 
conducted to his apartment, where he remained quiet 
great part of the night. But when he thought the 
family asleep, he arose, and drawing his sword, entered 
the room in which Lucretia lay, without being dis- 
covered by any of her domestics. - On approaching her 
bed-side, he made her acquainted with his wishes, and 
the weapon with which he was armed; threatening, at 
the same time, to kill her, if she attempted to escape, 
or offered to alarm the family. 

But he had recourse to entreaties and menaces in 
vain. Determined, however, to accomplish his pur- 


pose, he sternly desired her to take choice of two condi- 
tions, of death with dishonour, or life with happiness. 
" On the one hand," whispered he, " you shall be- 
come my wife, and with rne enjoy all the power and 
honours which I possess or have in prospect, the king- 
dom of Rome and the sovereignty of Italy. But if you 
refuse, I will first kill you, and then stab one of your 
male slaves; and, laying your bodies together, declare 
that I caught you in his embrace, and slew you to re- 
venge the injured honour of Collatinus." Subdued by 
the fear of shame, Lucre tia, who had set death at de- 
fiance, submitted, and the infamous Sextus returned 
next morning to the camp with the exulting air of a 

The feelings of a beautiful and virtuous lady thus dis- 
honoured may easier be conceived than described. Lu- 
cretia, however, behaved with composure and dignity. 
Having- dressed herself in b. l ck, she ordered her chariot, 
and drove from Coilatia to Rome. On entering the 
house of her father Lucretius, she threw herself at his 
feet, and embracing his knees, remained for some time 
bathed in tears, without. uttering a word. He raised her 
affectionately, and asked what misfortune had befallen 
her. " To you, O father! I flee for refuge, under a 
dreadful and irreparable injury. In her calamities for- 
sake not your daughter, who has suffered worse than 

Struck with wonder and astonishment at what he 
heard and saw, h,i father desired IK-T to say what inju- 
ry she had sustained. *' That," said Lucretia, tf you 
will know too soon for your peace. In the nieaii time, 
assemble your friends and relations, that they may learn 
from mv lips the shameful and severe necessity to which 
I have been compelled to submit, and that they may 
concert with you the means of revenge.' 

Lucretius accordingly invited to his house, by a hasty 
message, the most considerable of his kindred and con- 
nexions in Rome, both male and female. When they 



were assembled, Lucretia unfolded to them her melan- 
choly tale, with all its cruel circumstances ; then em- 
bracing her father, and recommending herself to him, 
to all present, and to the gods, the just avengers of guilt, 
she drew a dagger, which she had concealed beneath 
her robes, and plunging it into her breast, at one stroke 
pierced her heart. The women, distracted with grief, 
beat their bosoms, and filled the house with shrieks and 
lamentations, while Lucretius embraced the bleeding 
body of his daughter, who expired in his arms. 

This awful spectacle filled all the Romans who were 
present with so much horror, blended with compassion, 
that they unanimously exclaimed they would rather die 
ten thousand deaths in defence of their liberties, than 
suffer such abuses to be committed by the Tarquins. 
Among the person's of distinction thus affected, was in- 
cluded Publius Valerius, afterwards surnamed Publi- 
cola, a man of great prudence and patriotism. He was 
chosen to go to the camp before Ardea, in order to ac- 
quaint the husband of Lucretia with her fate ; and en- 
deavour, in conjunction with him, to engage the army 
to revolt. 

But Valerius had hardly begun his journey, when he 
met Collatinus romiug to R,ome, yet ignorant of the mis- 
fortunes of his family : and with him came Lucius Ju- 
nius, surnamed Brutus, or the Fool, from the air of stu- 
pidity which had hitherto markecThis character. That 
stupid appearance, however, was only assumed, as a 
mask to conceal his superior talents from the jealous eye 
of Tarquin II. who had put to death his father and his. 
eldest brother, as too powerful and high-minded men to 
submit to his tyrannical government. 

Brutus, in the mean time, only waited for a proper 
opportunity of recovering the lost liberties of his coun- 
try. And no sooner did he hear Valerius relate the un- 
happy story of Lucretia, than, taking protection of the 
gods, he hastened to the house of mourning ; where, 
finding the father and husband of Lucretia sunk in the 



deepest sorrow, he told them they would afterwards 
have leisure to bewail her fate ; they ought now to think 
of avenging it. 

In consequence of this advice, a consultation was in- 
stantly held, at which Brutus explained the cause of 
the degrading character he had assumed, and prevail- 
ed upon Lucretius, Collatinus, Valerius, and their com- 
mon friends, to join in a resolution of expelling Tarquin 
and his usurping family. On the .dagger with which 
Lucretia destroyed herself, and in sight of her breathless 
corpse, they swore to expel the Tarquins with fire and 
sword. And this sacred band of patriots accomplished 
their purpose, and laid the foundation of the Roman 
glory, by restoring that liberty of which for many cen- 
turies afterwards the people were so justly proud. 

Brutus, and Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia, were 
the first consuls, and were appointed in the year of 
Rome 244, 508 years before Christ. 

Roman History. 

LUMLEY (JOANNA), eldest Daughter and Coheiress 
of Henry Fitz- Allen, Earl of Arundel, and first Wife 
of John, Lord Lumley, by whom she had three Sons, 
who died Infants. 

SHE translated from the original Greek into Latin that 
oration *of Isocrates entitled Archidamus; the second and 
third orations of Isocrates to Nicocles, which she dedi- 
cated to her father ; and likewise turned into Latin an 
oration of the same author in praise of peace, entitled 
Evagoras, dedicated likewise to her father. The manu- 
scripts of these are in the Royal Library at Westmin- 
ster, as also a translation of the Jphigenia of Euripides 
into English. The argument of the play begins with 
these words: " After that the captain of the Grecians." 

No more of this learned lady's writings are known, 
or when she died; but when her father wrote his will, 



which is dated 1579, she was then dead, and lies buried 
in the church of Cheam, in Surry, on the south side of 
which is her tomb. 

Female Worthies. 

LUSSAN (MARGARET -DE), Daughter of a Coach- 
man, and La Flettry, a Fortune-Teller; born 1682 , 
died 1758, iged 75, inconsequence of Bathing after 
an Indigestion. 

SOME have said she was the natural daughter of prince 
Thomas of Savoy, because prince Eugene was kind to 
her. An education much above her birth enabled Mar- 
garet de Lussan to compose the various works which 
she has left us. M. Huet, to whom she accidentally be- 
came known, advised her to write romances, in which 
she succeeded tolerably well, with the help of De la 
Serre, sieur de Langlade, author of nine or ten operas, 
who was her intimate friend, after having been her lo- 
ver. This gentleman inherited an income of 25,000 
Jivres, which he consumed by gaining, and died 175(5, 
aged 94. Mademoiselle de Lussan was more admired 
for her mental than her personal qualifications ; for she 
squinted, and had a very brown skin, with a masculine 
voice and gait; but she was gay, lively, extremely hu- 
mane, constant in her friendships, liable to anger,- but 
never to hatred. 

She published, under her own name, The History of 
diaries VI. of Louis IX. and of the Revolution of JVa- 
ples; but they were written by M Baudot de Juilly, to 
whom she gave half of what she gained by rhese works, 
and half a pension of two thousand livres, which she re- 
ceived from the Mercury. Her works are : 1, Histoire 
de la Comptesse de Gonds, 12mo. 2 vbis. 1727 and 
1752; 2, Anecdotes de (a Cour de Philippe Auguste, 
6 vol*. 1733; S, Les Veillees de Tkessalie, 4 vois. 1741 ; 
4, Mcmoires Secret, et Intrigues de la Cour de France 




sons Charles VII. 1741; 5, Anecdotes dc la Cour de 
Francois I. 3 vols. 1748; 6, Marie d 1 Angleterre , Reine 
d'Ecosse, 1749; 7, Annales Galantes de la Cour de Henri 
II, 2 vols. 1749; 8, Monrat et Turquia, Histoire 
Africaine, 1752; 9, La Vie du brave Crillon, 2 vols. 

L'Advocat's Dictionary, ike. 


ter of John Sawbrid<re, Esc/, of Ollanttgh, in Kent ; 
tiicd at Bhifield, in Berkshire, 1791. 

THIS lady, from intuitive fondness for learning, ad- 
dicted herself very early in life to reading history, espe- 
cially that of the Greeks and Romans, from which she 
imbibed the enthusiastic attachment to liberty so strongly 
displayed in her writings. In 1760, she married Dr. 
George Macauley, a physician in London, some of whose 
writings appear in the Medical Observations. By this 
gentleman she had one daughter, who was afterwards 
married to Captain Gregory, in the East-India service. 

In 1778, she married secondly, Mr. William Graham. 
Her first literary production was the History of England 
from James I. to George I. in 8 vols. 4to the first pub- 
lished in 1763, the last in 1783. This is a violent attack 
on the whole race of the Stuarts, and was very popular 
at the time it first came out ; 2, Remarks on Hobbes* 
Rudiments of Government and Society, 8 vols. ; 3, Loose 
Remarks on some of Mr. Hobbes's Positions, 4to. 1769; 
4, Thoughts on the Causes of the present Discontents, 
1770; 5, A Modest Plea for the Property of Copy- 
Right, 8vo. 1774; 6, History of England, from the Re- 
volution to the present Time, in Letters to her Friend 
Dr. Wilson, 1 vol. 4to. 1778. This was published at 
Bath; 7, An Address to the People of England, Scot- 


land, and Ireland, on the present important Crisis, Sv. 
1775 ; 8, A Treatise on the Immutability of Moral Truth, 
8vo. 1783 ; 9, Letters on Education, 8vo. 1790. 

Mrs. Macauley was pleasing and delicate in her per- 
son, and a woman of great feeling and indisputable abi- 
lities, though the democratic spirit of her writings has 
Biade them fail into disrepute. 

GeA. Biog Diet. 

ACRINA, Sister of St. Basil and St. Gregory of 

WAS a woman of great piety and learning; who, af- 
ter the death of her father, her brothers and sisters being 
settled, retired with her mother Emmelia to a convent 
which they founded on an estaf e of their own in Pontus r 
near the river Iris, and there died, 37. St. Gregory of 
Nyssa has written her life. 


IT was an 6pinicn of the Jewish Rabbis, that the 
world was governed by ministering spirits. Good ac- 
tions or the immediate commands of God performed by 
angels, arid the contrary by devils. In the latter class 
were diseases: and when it is said ill the scripture that 
out of Mary Magdalen our Saviour cast seven devils, it 
is allowed by divines to mean so many different mental 
or bodily diseases. Her gratitude for this benefit induced 
her to become his disciple. She was present ar his cru- 
cifix on, saw him laid in the tomb, carried perfumes 
thither to embalm him, and was the first person to 
whom he appeared after his resurrection. Mary Mag- 
dalen attempted to detain him, and to kiss his feet, but 
Jesus said unto her, " Touch me not, for I am not yet 



ascended to my father." He ordered her at the same 
time to announce his resurrection to his apostles and dis- 
ciples. She is believed to have died and been buried at 
Ephesus. She was not the sister of Martha, for the 
scripture always distinguishes them ; nor was she the 
sinner mentioned is; the Gospel, who was a common 
woman of Nain, vvnose name is not mentioned, and who 
only appears to have seen Christ when she anointed his 
feet, and was dismissed by him with the-e words: " Go 
in peace, and sin no more." Nothing of this i$ appli- 
cable to Mary Magdalen, of whom there is no reason for 
the presumption that she had led a bad life, though the 
mistake has been perpetuated from age to age. 

L'Advocat's Dictionary. 

CHIONESS DE), born 1635, died 1719. 

WAS descended from the ancient family of D'Aubig- 
ne; her grandfather, born in the year 1550, was a person 
of great merit as well as rank, a lead ing man among the 
Protestants in France, and much courted to come over 
to the opposite party* When he found he could be no 
longer sate in his own country, he fled for refuge to Ge- 
neva about the year 1619, v.'here he was received by the 
magistrates awd clergy with great marks of honour and 
distinction, and passed the remainder of his life among 

His son married the daughter of Peter de Cardillac, 
lord of Lane, in 1627, at Bourdeaux, not without some 
apprehensions, it is said, on the part of the lady, upon 
her being united, we know not how, to a man of a most 
infamous character, who had actually murdered his first 
wife, for such was Constantius D'Aubigne. Soon after 
his marriage, going to Paris, he was, for some very gross 
offence, thrown into prison, upon which she followed 
to solicit his pardon, but in vain; cardinal Richelieu 



was inflexible, and told her, that in denying her request 
he was doing her a friendly office. But more attached 
to him in consequence of his misfortunes, she at length 
obtained leave to confine herself with him in prison. 
Here she had two sons; and, becoming pregnant a third 
time, petitioned that he might be removed to the prison 
of Niort, where they should be nearer their relations, 
which was granted. 

In this prison Madame de Maintenon was born, but 
was taken from it by Madame Villette, of Poitou,-her 
aunt by the father's side, who, in compassion to the 
child, put her into the care of her daughter's nurse, with 
whom, for some time, she was bred up as a foster-sis- 
ter. Madame D'Aubigne at length obtained her hus- 
band's enlargement, on condition that he should turn 
Roman catholic, which he promised, but did not chuse 
to do; and fearing to be again involved in trouble, in 
the year 1639 he embarked for America with his wife 
and family, and settled at Martinico. Madame D'Au* in a little time returned to France, to carry on 
some law-suits for the recovery of debts; but Madame 
Villette dissuaded her from it, and she returned to Mar- 
tinico, where she found her husband ruined by gaming. 
In the year 1646 he died, leaving his wife in the ut- 
most distress, who returned to France, with her debts 
unpaid , and her daughter as a pledge in the hands of 
one of her principal creditors, who, however, soon sent 
her into France after her mother. Here, neglected by 
her mother, who was in no capacity to maintain her, 
she was again taken by Madame Villette to live with 
her ; and the little Frances studied by every means in 
her power to render herself agreeable to a person on 
whom she was to depend for every thing ; made 
it her business to insinuate herself also into the affec- 
tions of her cousin, with whom she had one common 
nurse; and expressed a great desire to be instructed in 
the religion of her ancestors, so that in a short time she 
became firmly attached to the protestant religion. In 



the mean time, Madame de Neuillant, a relation by the 
mother's side, and a catholic, had been very assiduous 
in in terming some considerable persons of the danger 
she was in, and even procured an order from court 
to tnke her out of the hands of Madame Vihette, 
in order to be instructed in the Roman catholic 
religion. She took her to herself, and made a convert of 
her ; But not without great difficulty, artifice, and seve- 
rity, which at length enforced her compliance. 

In lr>51, Madame de Neuillant being obliged to go to 
Paris, took her niece along with her, and there she en- 
dured all the miseries of dependance. Her beauty 
arid fine understanding being much admired, she de- 
lighted to humble her by representing her to her 
friends as an object of pity. In the mean time her 
mother came to Paris on a law-suit, and died with 
grief at its unhappy termination, as it ruined the fu- 
ture prospects of her children. Mademoiselle D'Au- 
bigne was at this time timid, and spoke but little ; but 
being a little more introduced into company, she learnt 
the manners of the world, and was much admired At 
the house of the famous Scarron she was a frequent visi- 
tor, and this celebrated wit began to feel a lively inte- 
rest in her concerns, and loved- her without daring to 
avow it. This extraordinary man was, at the same time, 
full of gaiety, wit, and infirmities. His figure was very 
much deformed, but he had a feeling heart, a lively and 
grotesque imagination and much patience in his ill 
health and poverty. He was gay in despite of pain, and 
satirical without malice. When he heard of what she 
.had to suffer from her aunt, he offered either to marry 
her, or to pay her pensioa in a convent; and Mademoi- 
selle D'Aubigne answered, that she preferred that obli- 
gation which would empower her more constantly to 
shew her gratitude to her benefactor. Madame Neuil- 
lant consented, and they were married. She lived w 7 ith 
him many years, and during ail the true had never quitted 
his presence. When he was ill, she was his nurse; when 



better, his companion, his amanuensis, or his reader. It 
was during this life of study and active complaisance, 
that she learned, perhaps, that pliability of will and hu- 
mour, and that extent of knowledge, which afterwards 
were of such material advantage to her. 

Voltaire makes no scruple to say, that this part of her 
life was undoubtedly the happiest. Her beauty, but 
especially her wit (4br she was never reckoned a perfect 
beauty) and unblemished reputation, distinguished her to 
great ad vantage, and her conversation was eagerly sought 
by the best company in Paris; but Scarron dying in 
1660, she was reduced to the same indigent condition 
she was in before marriage. Her friends, however, en- 
deavoured all they could to get the pension continued to 
her which had been allowed her husband. Petitions 
were, in consequence, frequently presented, beginning 
always with " the widow Scarron most humbly prays 
your majesty, &c." ; so that the king was so weary of 
them, that he was heard to say, " Must I always be 
pestered with the widow Scarron ?" However, he at last, 
at the solicitation of Madame Montespan, settled a much 
larger* pension on her, and said at the same time, " Ma- 
dam, I have made you wait a long time, but you have 
so many friends, that I was resolved to have this merit 
with you on my own account." 

As Madame de Montespan wished to conceal the 
birth of the children she had by the king, Madame 
Scarron was thought a proper person to be entrusted 
with their education. She was, therefore, created gover- 
ness by him, and led a solitary and laborious life in 
watching with motherly solicitude, not only over the 
minds, but "he health of the children committed to her 
care. What made it more unpleasant was, that du- 
ring the earlier part of the ti'iie, Lewis himself disli- 
ked her, and fancied her a female pedant and a wit ; 
but when she was obliged to write, her letters charmed 
him, and he could not have thought, he said, a belle 
esprit could have written so well. 



Lewis was one day afterwards 1 playing with the 
duke de Maine, and, pleased with some shrewd answer 
of the boy, said, " You are very wise." " How should 
I be otherwise," said he, " when I am under the tuition 
of Wisdom herself?" This answer pleased him so much, 
that he sent to her a hundred thousand francs. 

Yet her situation became daily more insupportable : 
she frequently .quarrelled with Madame de Montespan, 
who complained of her to the king. " Why do you not 
dismiss her, then?" said he, " are you not the mis- 
tress?" She thought it, however, more easy to appease 
than to replace, and informed her of what he had 
said. Hurt and indignant at being considered so lightly, 
she declared she would resign her situation. Madame 
Montespan was alarmed : she sought to appease her ; 
but only at the wish of the king, to whom, 
for the future, she was alone to be accountable, 
she consented to remain. In the conversations which 
ensued, she began, at the age of forty-eight, to win the 
affections of Lewis. Though still handsome, it w r as to 
her sense and mental accomplishments that this extraor- 
dinary woman was chiefly, if not wholly, indebted for 
the conquest of a monarch ever volatile and inconstant, 
till tixed by her. In her conversation, in which sallies 
of wit and precepts of virtue were j udiciously blended, 
he discovered charms before unknown. During an in- 
tercourse of several years, and for the last four, of the 
m t intimate nature, she completely won his affec- 
tions. The more she was known, the more she was 
valued; and at length, partly from esteem, and purily 
from religious scruples, Lewis, by the p.clvice of his 
confessor, the Jesuit La Chaise, lawfully married her, 
Jan. 168(), when she was in her fifty-second year, and 
he in his forty-eighth. No contract was signed, no set- 
tlement made; the nuptial benediction was bestowed by 
Harlai de Chamvalon, archbishop of Paris. La Chaise 
was present at the ceremony ; Montchevreuil, and Bon- 
temps, first valet-de-chambre to the king, attended as 



witnesses. Mad an ?e de Main tenon, for she never as- 
sumed any other title, proved herself worthy of the high 
station by her disinterestednesss, virtue, and moderation. 
She exerted her credit with extreme circumspection, ne- 
ver interfered in political intrigues, and betrayed a greater 
desire to render the king happy than to govern the 
state. Her aggrandizement by no means tended to in- 
crease Jier felicitjr: she led a retired life, excluded from 
all social intercourse with her friends; and its invariable 
assiduity not only produced lassitude, but excited dis- 
gust. It is to be lamented, that her fear of rendering 
Lewis uneasy by contradiction prevented her from doing 
all the good she might have done, and all she icished to 
do; yet, by an unwise exertion of power, she engaged 
him to acknowledge the -son of James II. as king of 
England, in opposition to the treaty of Ryswick; and, 
after the dreadful defeat of the French at Blenheim, was 
the only one who had sufficient courage to inform the 
king he w r as no longer invincible. 

He bought for her the lands of Maintenon in 1679, 
which was the only estate she ever bad, though in the 
height of favour, which afforded her the means of mak- 
ing purchases to what value she pleased Here she had 
a magnificent castle, in a delightful country, not more 
than fourteen leagues distant from Paris, and ten from 
Versailles. The king seeing her wonderfully pleaded 
with her ^state, called her publicly Madame de Mainte- 
non, and this change of name stood her in much greater 
stead than she could have imagined, yet her elevation, 
was to her only a retreat. Shut up in her apartment, 
which was on the same floor with the king's, she con- 
fined herself to the society of two or three ladies as re- 
tired as herself, and even those she saw but seldom. 
Lewis went there every day after dinner, before 
and after supper, and staid till .-niuinight. Here he 
did business with his ministers, while she employed 
herself in reading or needle work, never shewing 
any forwardness to talk of state affairs, and care- 


fully avoiding all appearance of cabal and intrigue. She 
studied more to please him who governed than to govern, 
and preserved her credit by employing it with the ut- 
most circumspection. Her brother, count D'Aubigne, 
a lieutenant-general of long standing, would have been 
made a marshal of France, but his indolent temper 
made the king wisely provide for him in a common 
way, as he was unfit for that high office. His 
daughter married the duke de Noailles. Two other 
nieces of Madame de Maintenon were married, the one 
to the marquis de Cay his, the other to the marquis de 
Villette. A. moderate pension, however, which Lewis 
XIV. gave to Madame de Caylus, was almost all her 
fortune: the others had nothing but expectation. 

The marriage was, however, kept very secret, ami 
the only outward mark of her elevation was, that at 
mass she sat in one of the two little galleries or gilded 
domes which appeared designed for the king and queen. 
Besides this, she had not any exterior appearance of 
grandeur. The piety and devotion with which she hnd 
inspired the king became gradually a sincere and settle.i 
disposition of mind, which age and affliction confirmed. 
She had already, with him and the whole court, ac- 
quired the merit of a foundress, by assembling at Noissy 
a great number of women of quality; and the king had 
already destined the revenues of the abbey 6f St. Denis 
for the maintenance of this rising community. St Cyr 
was built at the end of the park at Versailles, in l(>8a. 
She then gave the form to this new establishment, which 
\vus for the education of three hundred young girls, of 
noble families, tiSi they attained the age oftwe'nty ; and, 
together with Godet Desmarets, bishop of Chartre/, 
made the rules, and was herself superior of the convent! 
Thither she often went to pass away some hours; and 
if we say, that melancholy determined her to tfiio 
employment, it is what she herself has said. " Why 
cannot I," says she, in a letter to "Madame de ta Mat- 
sonfort, " why cannot I give you my experience? Why 

x * cannot 


cannot I make you sensible of that uneasiness which 
wears out the great, and of the difficulties they la- 
hour under to employ their time? Do not you see 
that I am dying witfi melancholy, in a height of for- 
tune which once my imagination could scarce have con- 
ceived ? 1 have hten young and beautiful, have had a 
relish for pleasures, and have been the universal object 
of love. In my advanced age I have spent my time in 
intellectual amusements. I have at last risen to favour; 
but 1 protest to you, my dear girl, that every one of 
these conditions leaves in the mind a dismal vacuity." 
If any thing could shew the vanity of ambition, it would 
certainly be this letter. Madame de Maintenon could 
have no other uneasiness than the uniformity and con- 
stant restraint of her manner of living ; and this made 
her say once to her brother, " I can hold it no longer; 
I wish I were dead." The way to please Lewis 
was never to be out of spirits or health, but the 
force she pot upon herself for this purpose rendered 
her life a burthen. He was the politest of men, and 
always preserved for her the greatest respect; yet, as 
she herself com plained, to " amuse a man who never 
can be amused" was the most perfect slavery. 

They latterly lived a retired life at the convent at St. 
Cyr, and the court grew every day more serious. Here 
it was she requested Racine, who had renounced the 
theatre ibr Jansenism and the court, to compose 
a tragedy, and take the subject of it from the scriptures. 
I [<; accordingly wrote Esther, which having been first 
: ( n t sented at the house of St. Cyr, was several times 
afterwards acted at Versailles, before the king, in (he 
winter of the year 1()89. At the death of Lewis, which 
happened. in 17 15, Madame de Maintenon retired wholly 
T.O the convent of St. Cyr, where she spent the remain- 
der of her days in acts of devotion ; and what is very 
'-'in-prizing, Louis XI V. anade no certain provision for 
her, but only recommended her to the duke of Orleans. 



She would accept of no more than a pension of 80,000 
livres, which was punctually paid till her death. 

She struggled for a long time to be publickiy arknow- 
ledffed queen, which Lewis was inclined to grant, but 
in the end persuaded from doing by his counsellors. 
Her letters have been printed in nine volumes, in Igmo. 

Female Worthies. 

MARIA, Daughter of Abraham Ben Althophaiel, of 

FAMOUS for her genius, memory, learning, and know- 
ledge of music, bhe died in the 545th year of the 

Bibliotheca Arabico-Hispanse Escurialiensis. 

MARINA, a famous Mexican Lady, who ?/? of great 
Service to Cortez in subjugating that Kingdom. 

ACCORDING to Antonio de Soils, Marina was the 
daughter of the cazique of Guazwalca, a province of the 
kingdom of Mexico, bordering on that of Tabatco. Bv 
an accident, which is variously related, she was carried 
away in her youth to Xicatongo, a strong p^ace on the 
frontiers of I 7 ucatan , kept by a Mexican garrison . There 
she was brought up in a manner ill suited to her birth, 
until, by a fresh accident, sale or captivity, she became 
the property of the cazique of Tabasco, who presented 
lu j r amongst so/me other Indian women to Cortez. She 
was superior both m beauty and intelligence to her com- 
panions, and understood not only the Mexican but the 
Yucatan language, and thereby proved a check upon the 
other interpreters. Besides, she soon acquired the Spa- 
nish tongue, and indeed manifested an admirable talent 
for attaining languages. By her address she found out 
u conspiracy to destroy the Spaniards, en a certain day, 

v x 8 and 


and discovered it to Cortez. Bernando Diaz calls her the 
exceHent Donna Marii.u. 

Modern Universal History. 


A VENETIAN lady of great wit and beauty, who 
wrote many popular works in prose and verse; amongst 
which is one to prove the superiority of women, in cou- 

VO fY\ o f\ f\ r*oo<3 Tnvfii^ r*-v/4 rx^tTriAi-mA r/- *-\r\ 1 ly-v--4 t ** "\T^ 

rage, address, virtue, and prudence, &c. call 

bilita deUe Donne, printed at Venice 1601, 8vo. ; the 

called La No- 
Lives of St. Francis and the Virgin Mary, c. 

F. c. &c. 

ter and ^Coheiress of Richard Jennings, Esq. of Sand- 
ridge, in Hertfordshire, Maid of Honour to Princess, 
afterwards Queen Anne ; 

MARRIED to the great duke of Maryborough in 1681. 
he was then about twenty-one, and universally esteem- 
ed one of the finest women in England in her person, 
_;;iul of great parts and wit; she had much influence 
over the mind of the princess Anne, in her conduct af- 
terwards, insomuch that she is supposed to have advi- 
M.d the latter to insist on the provision of 50,0001. per an-, which did not please king William. In the mean 
tire, some infamous persons plotted the ruin of the 
t nke, and insinuated, that through his wife the coun- 
cils of the king were betrayed to the friends of James. 
In the account the duchess of Marlborough gives of her 
conduct, she says, " Soon after, a dreadful plot broke 
out, which was said to have been hid somewhere, I 
don't know where, in a flower-pot, and my lord Marl- 
borough was sent to the Tower." He was, however, 
soon bailed, and the contrivance laid open, which forced 



king William to set him at liberty ; though, from T)r. 
Somerville's account of the reign of Queen Anne, it ap- 
pears he was neither suspected without cause, lior that 
William had any real confidence in him. He, however^ 
recommended him to Queen Anne, and during her reign 
he performed those actions which have rendered his 
name immortal, and remained in great favour wit^ her 
till a new'lemale favouiite supplanted the duchess; but. 
on his return in 170*>, he be^an 1,6 support th change 
that took place; and when he came over the nextyar, 
though the queen was still polite towards him, he louwi 
her dislike towards the duchess so apparent, 
seeing it could be no longer dissembled, on the l.oth 
of January he carried the gold key, the ensign of his 
wife's dignity, to the queen, and surrendered all her em- 
ployments. In 1719, he was dismissed from his ; and 
as Tils duchess had shared Ills glory, she shared also his 
disgrace, and attended him hi all his journles, particu- 
larly in his visit to the principality of Mindelheim, whicli 
had been given him by the emperor. Just -before the 
death of queen Anne, they again returned to England, 
and he came into favour in the reign of George I. 
They lost their only son youno;, but the dukedom de- 
scended to the eldest, of his four daughters; who were all 
greatly married, Colley Gibber.. \vho was in raptures 
with her beauty, said, she became a great-grand mother 
without grey hairs. Swift says, the duke was indebted 
to her for his greatness and his fall, as for above twenty- 
years she possessed the favour of the most indulgent 
mistress in the world, and never missed an opportunity 
of forwarding her interest, but her temper was the cause 
of her losing it. Bishop Burnet savs, <e she was a wo- 
m?n of little knowledge, but of a clear apprehension, 
and a true judgment ; a warm and hearty friend, violent 
and sudden in her resolutions, and impetuous in her way 
of speaking. She was thought proud and insolent on 
her favour, though she used none of the common arts of 
a court to maintain it, for she did not beset the.prin- 
x 3 cess. 


cess, nor flatter her. She stayed much at home, and 
looked very carefully after the education of her chil- 

In 1742, was published, An Account of the Conduct 
of the Dowager Duchess of Marlborough, from her fust 
coming to Court to ike Year 1710." This work, which 
was meant to vindicate the part she had acted during 
her connection with- queen Anne, is curious and inte- 
resting-, and of use in elucidating our history. It was 
written under her direction by-Mr. Hooke, to whom she 
gave five thousand pounds. She had a quarrel with him 
afterwards, because, as she affirmed, he endeavoured to 
convert her to popery ; yet, according to Swift, she had 
little opinion of even the general doctrines of Christia- 
nity. This work displays much pique and passion, and 
shews the little events which sometimes influence the 
fate of nations. Pope characterised her under the name 
of Atossa, which she discovered and resented, though 
she afterwards forgave and courted him. 

She was rather famous for a rough kind of wit. Lord 
Soiners once paid a visit of ceremony to her husband in 
his illness. There had been a. great coldness between 
these noblemen for some time; but his lordship brought 
a coixlial with him, which he earnestly recommended to 
his grace, saying, " He would he hanged, if it was 
not serviceable to him." The duchess instantly said, 
" Take it then, my lord duke ; it must infallibly be of 
vise to you one way or other." The duke died 1722; 
she 1744. 

Treasury of Wit. Biog Brit. 

MAROZIA, a Lady of Rank, Concubine to Pope Ser- 
gius III. famous for her Licentiousness, Intrigues, and 

SHE procured John X. to be deposed, Leo VI. to be 
put to death in prison, and in 931 placed on the pon- 



-tifical throne John IX. whom she had by Sergius III. 
Marozia had heen successively wife to Adalbert and his 
son Guy ; and when the latter died, Hugh, kin^ of Ita^ 
ly and "Provence, Guy's brother- in-law, married lier, 
that he might be master of the castle of Rome. 

L'Advocat's Biog. 

MAKQUETS (ANNE DE) of a nolle Family, entered 
among the Dominican Nuns at Poissy, and died there 

UNDERSTANDING Greek and Latin, she translated 
From the latter the Poems of Flaminius, Paris, 156.9, 
8vo. ; and also the Latin Commentary, by Claude d'E- 
spence, on the Sunday Collects ; and wrote Sonnets for 
the Sundays. A collection of her fugitive pieces was 
published, which were much admired by Ronsard. 
Claude d'Espence was her friend, and left her an an- 
nuity of 30 livres, by his will, dated 1571. She lost 
her sight two years before she died. 

F. c. &c. 


AT the time of declaring the punishment of Adam 
and Eve, for the transgression which occasioned their 
fail from innocence and happiness, it was promised, 
that, as woman had first broken the compact of obedi- 
ence to her Maker, and been the most severely pu- 
nished for it, her seed should redeem the lost privileges 
of mankind, and open again the gates of heaven to 
those who had made themselves rnvrcrthy of it. A 
continuation of predictions, for 4000 years, at different 
periods, enlarjad and particularized this prophecy, till, 
in the year, as it is supposed, of the world 4004, an 
angel appeared unto Mary, the contracted wife of Jo- 
seph her cousin, of the tribe of Judah and house of 
x 4 David, 


David, to proclaim to her that she was destined to be 
the mother of this universal deliverer. Joseph, who was 
minded to put her away privily, was likewise visited by 
the same holy messenger, who said, " Fear not to take 
unto thee Mary thy wife ; for that which is conceived 
in her is of the Holy Ghost." On visiting her cousin 
Elizabeth, then pregnant of John the Baptist, she by 
inspiration hailed the mother of our Lord, and Mary 
pronounced that beautiful hymn, which will ever be a 
monument of her humility and gratitude. The same 
year she went to Bethlehem, in obedience to the edict 
of Augustus, who, wishing to know with certainty the 
population of his empire, commanded all the people 
to repair to stated cities, and have their names inrolled. 
She was there, in consequence of the great concours'e of 
people, delivered of the Son of God in a manger. She 
saw his wisdom, his miracles, and finally his cruci- 
fixion, when he consigned her to the care of his beloved 
apostle St. John; to whose house she accordingly went, 
and .spent with him the remainder of her days. 

A Persian MS. says that the Virgin Mary was sixteen 
when she became pregnant, and one hundred and two 
when F!IC died, living sixty-six years after our Saviour's 
ascension. This would nut agree with our method of 
counting, the Mahometans reckoning by lunar years ; 
so that what with us is but one, is with them a year and 
a month. It goes on, saying that some authors make 
Mary live only six years after the ascension of our Sa- 
viour ; and that at the time of her death she was 

King Henry VI II, by Catharine of Arragon; born at 
Greenwich, in Kent, Io47. 

IN her infancy her mother committed her to the care 
of the hidy Margaret, couwtess of Salisbury, daughter to 
George, duke of Clarence, brother to Edward IV, and 



mother to the famous cardinal Pole, with a vkw, as is 
supposed, to marry the princess to one of the said 
countess's sons, to strengthen her title, by that alli- 
ance to the house of York. 

Queen Catherine was very careful of her education, 
and appointed several excellent tutors to perfect her iii 
the Latin tongue. Under their tuition she became so 
great a proficient in the Latin tongue, that Erasmus 
commands her much for her epistles in that, language, 
as wrote in a good style. Towards the latter end of 
her father's reign, at the earnest request of Catherine 
Parr, she undertook the translation, of Erasmus's para- 
phrase on the gospel of St. John; which Mr. Udall, a 
very, good judge, says, was admirably performed. To 
this Mr. L T dall wrote a preface, wherein he observes ' l the 
great number of noble women at that time in England, 
not only given to the study of human sciences and 
strange tongues, but also so thoroughly expert in holy 
scriptures, that they we^e able to compare with the 
best writers, as well in indlteing and penning of godly 
and fruitful! treatises, to the instruction and edifying of 
realms in the knowledge of God, as also in translating 
good books out of Latin or Greek into English, for the 
use and commodity of such as are rude .and ignorant of 
the said tongues." 

In Mr. Fox's Acts and Monuments, are printed eight 
letters, written by the princess Mary to King Edward 
VI, and to the lords of the council, concerning her non- 
conformity to the establishment, and about the impri- 
sonment and releasing hpr chaplain, Dr. Francis Mallet, 

In the appendix to Mi'. Strype's 3d vol. of Histori- 
cal Memorials y No. 82, is a prayer of the lady Mary to 
the Lord Jesu, against the assault of vice. And No. 
8-3, is a meditation touching adversity ; made by lady 
Mary's grace, IMP. 

In the Si/Hoge Ep!.tto?nnim, at the end of T. Livy's 
Life of King Henry V, published by Mr, Hearne, is a 
large collection of Queen Mar/*^ letters, 

x ^ la. 


In the Bodleian library, B. 94, is a manuscript pri- 
mer, curiously illuminated, which was formerly Queen 
Mary's, and afterwards Prince Henry's. It was given 
him by Richard Connock, Esq; July 7, 1615. Just at 
the beginning of the Psalms, is the following passage, 
written by Queen Mary's own hand, viz. * Geate you 
such riches as when the shippe is broken may swyine 
away wythe the master. For dy verse chances take 
away the goods of fortune. But the goods of the soule, 
whych been only the trewe goods, nother fyr nor water 
can take away, ,If you take labour and payne to do a 
vertuous thyng, the labour goeth away and the vertue 
remaynethe. Yf throughe pleasure you do any vicious 
thyng, the pleasure goeth away and the vice remayn- 
ethe. Good madam, for my sake remember thys. 

Your levying mistress, 


What we have hitherto said of the lady Mary, relates 
to her literary character ; what yet remains untold, re- 
spects her conduct after she ascended the throne. 

King Edward her brother dying 1553, she was on the 
20th of the same month proclaimed, and on the 1st of 
October following crowned , in the abbey church at West- 
minster, by Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester ; 
she was married to Philip, Prince of Spain, eldest son 
of the Emperor Charles V; and having reigned five years, 
four months and eleven days, died of a fever, occasioned 
by her disappointment in not having children, and 
bv the absence and unkindness of King Philip, in her 
palace at St. James's 1558, in the 43d year of her age ; 
and was buried on the north side of King Henry VHth's 
chapel, Westminster. 

It is painful to dwell on the events of Mary's reign. 
Her sour and bigotted temper not only made herself 
unhappy, but deluged the kingdom with innocent blood, 
by the barbarous persecution of the protestants during 
her reign. 



Some protestants seem to think, that the Queen, in 
herself, abstracted from her opinions and bigotted 
counsellors, was of a compassionate disposition, and 
that most of those barbarities were committed by her 
bishops without her privity or knowledge. But this 
must appear very unaccountable to any one who duly 
considers the vicinity of St. James's to the place where 
many of these inhumanities were put in execution. It 
seems next to impossible, that Smithfield should be kept 
in flames almost live years together, and Mary kno\v 
little or nothing of it; and if she was of so compassionate 
a nature, it is surprising that she should not relent at it. 
Can even charity itself excuse her unkind and inhuman 
treatment of her sister Elizabeth ? Or can it be suppo- 
sed, that a princess, so much inclined to shew mercy to 
her subjects, could admit of a council for the taking up 
and burning her father's body? The ungrateful and 
perfidious breach of her promise to her faithful and loyal 
subjects the Suffolk men, was a most flagrant instance of 
the ferocity of her temper! And after judge Hales had 
so strenuously defended and maintained her right of 
succession to the crown, she treated him in the most 
ungenerous and barbarous manner ! neither was her 
usage of archbishop Cranmer less cruel; especially since 
his great and well known reluctance to the excluding 
her from the succession, aacl his preserving her life ia 
the reign of her father, who would have sacrificed her 
to his fury, for not complying with the regulations he 
made in religion, had not the archbishop interposed 
and mollified his resentment, were obligations of such a 
nature, as would have engaged a temper the least sus- 
ceptible of gratitude, not only to excuse the part which 
he acted in the affair of her mother's divorce, but also 
to afford him, if not her favour and confidence, yet 
at least her protection. 

There are eight of her letters to King Edward and 
the lords of the council, on her nonconformity, and on 
the imprisonment of her chaplain, Mr. Mallet, in Fox'* 



Acts and Monument. In the Sylloge Epistolarum are 
several more of her letters, extremely curious : one on 
the subject of her delicacy, in never having written but 
to three men ; one of attection for her sister ; one after 
the death of Anne Boleyn ; and one, very remarkable, 
of Cromwell to her. In Haynes's State Papers are two] 
in Spanish, to the emperor Charles V. There is also a 
French letter, printed by Strype, in the Cotton Library, 
in answer to a haughty mandate of Philip, when he 
had a mind to marry Elizabeth to the duke of Savoy, 
against the queen's and princess's inclination. It is 
written in a most abject manner, and in a wretched 

Female Worthies. Biog. Diet, 

MARY II. and MARY, Quetn of Scots. 

MARY, an Anglo-Norman Poetess, of the 13th Cen- 

IT is well known that all the Northern nations had 
a .sort of oral, itinerant poets, who were admired and re- 
vered by them, under different titles. The Normans, 
being a colony from Norway and Denmark, it is probable 
that many would accompany Rollo at the time of his 
expedition into France, and leave behind them suc- 
t-esFors in the art ; who in time, mixing with the people, 
became Troubadours or Norman Rymours, who were 
in the following century introduced into England by 
Rollo' s descendant, William the Conqueror. Amon# 
these Anglo-Norman Tro-iiveum, Mary, who has been 
called the Sappho of her age, makes a considerable fi- 
gure, v 

We are informed by this lady, that she was born in 
France; but she does not mention in what province, or' 



the reasons which induced her to come to England. 
Perhaps it was Normandy, as Philip- Augustus made 
himself master of that country in 1204; and many fa- 
milies, from attachment to the 'English government^ 
went over and settled in Great Britain. 

She appears to have understood the Bas Breton, or 
Armoric tongue, whence it may be also inferred she was 
born in Brittany ; she was besides extremely well versed 
in the literature of that province, and borrowed much 
from the writers of that country. She might, however, 
acquire both the Armoric and English languages. She 
was also well acquainted with the Latin, and from her 
application to those different languages must have been 
of a rank of life that allowed her leisure to attain them. 
She has, however, said nothing, which can throw light 
upon her station or her family name. 

The first poems of Mary are A Collection of Lays, in 
French Verse, on the Romances of Chivalry amongst the 
Welch and Armoric Britons, which she dedicated to some 

Mons. La Rue, the acute and elegant historian of 
Mary, in the 13th vol. of the English Archccologia, de- 
termines it to be Henry III. These are twelve in number, 
and constitute the largest and most ancient specimen of 
Anglo-Norman poetry of this kind, that has been handed 
down to us. " The smaller ones are in general of much 
importance, as to the knowledge of ancient chivalry. 
She has described manners with a pencil at once faithful 
and pleasing ; arrests the attention of her readers by the 
subjects of her stories, by the interest which she x skil- 
fully blends in them, and by the simple and natural man- 
ner in which she relates them. In spite of her rapid 
and flowing slile, nothing is forgotten in her details and 
descriptions. Mary did not only possess a most refined 
taste; she had also to boast a mind of sensibility. The 
English muse seems to have inspired her, all her subjects 
are sad and melancholy. She appears to have designed 
to melt the hearts of her readers; always speaks to the 



soul r calls forth all its feelings, and very frequently 
throws it into the utmost consternation." 

Her second work is a collection of ^Esopian Fables, 
which, she says, she engaged in at the solicitation of an 
Earl William, the flower of chivalry and courtesy. This 
earl, whom Le Grand, the translator of some of the fa- 
bles into French prose, supposes to have been earl Wil- 
liam de Dampiere, M. la Rue shews must have been 
William Longsword, natural son of Henry II. and created 
earl of Salisbury by Richard Coeur de Lion. 

There are three MS. copies of this work in the Bri- 
tish Museum. Though these fables are called yKsopian, 
few of them are really so. It is supposed she made her 
translation from an heterogeneous collection, not now 
in being ; because, out of 108 fables in her work, there 
are only 39 which are similar to those we have of that 
ancient writer. " Her fables are written with all that 
acuteness of mind, that penetrates the very inmost re- 
cesses of the human heart ; and, at the same time, with 
that beautiful simplicity peculiar to the ancient romance 
language. It appears that Fontaine has imitated her, 
rather than the fabulists of either Greece or Rome, and 
some fabies he has taken completely from her." 

A third work of Mary's, is a translation, in French 
Terse, of a history or tale of St. Patrick's Purgatory. 
Whether she wrote any more is uncertain ; but no more 
has come down to uc. 

British Critic, Dec. 1800. 

MARY, of the Incarnation, a celebrated M online Nun, 
whoxe Name was Mary Guyert; born 1599? at Tours-, 
died at Quebec, 1672, aged 73. 

Being left a widow at 32, she became a nun, and 
wrote a book for Novices, called VEcole Chretienne ; in 
1(J39 sue went to Quebec, and established a convent of 



her order there, which she governed with prudence and 
moderation. There is a 4to. volume of her's, containing 
a Retreat, and Letters. Dom. Claudius Martin, her son* 
who died 1696, published her life, which has also beeir 
written by Pere Charlevoix, a Jesuit. 

L'Advocat's Biog. 

MARY (ANTOINETTE), Archduchess of Austria, 
.Daughter of Maria Theresa, and Wife to Louis XVI, 
King of France- beheaded 1793. 

THE duke de Choiseul, wishing to counterbalance the 
power of Mad. Dubarry, mistress to Louis XV, thought 
nothing more likely than to marry the dauphin, grandson 
of that monarch, to a grand-duchess of Austria, and thus 
put an end to the enmity of the two houses. As the he- 
rald of peace Antoinette arrived, and the beauty of her 
person, and graces of manner, concurred to render the 
impression favourable. Her complexion was very fair, 
her face oval, eyes blue, mild and intelligent, an aqui- 
line oose, and a little mouth, with what is called an 
Austrian lip; tine light hair a well-proportioned figure, 
and beautiful hands. She had not yet done growing, 
These attractions of person were seconded by an inge- 
nuous and affable manner, her charms were those of 
naivete. The king was enchanted with her, and his flat- 
tering reception hindered her from perceiving the little 
emotion her husband shewed. He had been taught by 
the duke de la Vauguyon to have a very low opinion of 
women, and esteemed marriage only a duty owing to 
his rank. Many years are said to have passed before she 
inspired him with that tender and pure attachment, 
which afterwards ended but with his life. The nuptials 
were brilliant in the highest degree ; but she was fatigued 
with the ceremonials and restraints of the French court. 
Madame Dubarry and her friends found that, directed by 
Choiseul, Antoinette would soon have all the power in 



her own hands; and, after many attempts, persuaded* 
the king to banish that minister, who left Paris accom- 
panied by many of the nobility. Had the dauphines> 
been older, she might have made use of her favour with 
Louis to have shewn him the snare in which his favou- 
rites were bringing him; but she was a child, whom 
her enemies amused by a thousand little arts, to pre- 
vent her taking any part in the affair. 

Louis XV. died 1774, of the small-pox, which made- 
him abandoned by all his family, but his daughters, 
who were affectionate children to a tender parent. 
They all fell sick of the same disorder, but recovered. 
Though given up to gaiety and dissipation, the credit 
of the young queen had daily gained ground with her 
husband- She wished to create a new situation for 
Madame de Lamballe at court, which the king did not 
disapprove; but M. Turgot, the minister, opposed it 
strongly on account of the pension. The queen, asto- 
nished to prove this opposition, complained, and the 
.minister was dismissed to make room for Neckar, who 
was more complaisant; but Mde. de Lamballe was soon 
supplanted by Madame de Polignac. 

In 1777 the emperor Joseph, brother to the queen, vi- 
sited France, under the name of count Falkenstein. It 
was supposed he came in the hope of gaining pecuniary 
assistance to carry on his wars, and that the queen fur- 
thered this view as much as possible, but without 
success. From the tenderness she shewed towards him, 
a suspicion stole into the minds of the French, that she 
kept up a correspondence with him, detrimental to the 
welfare of the state* ; but no other proof of it has ap- 
peared . 

The circumstances which led to their conceiving so bitter 
a hate towards her, the limits of this work do not allow 
us to state progressively. Heedless extravagance and 
dissipation seem to have been the source; faults certainly 
both foolish and unfeeling! but the sufferings she un- 
derwent, still fresh in the memory of every one, more 



than expiated them. A long confinement, a series of 
alarms and agitation, the violent death of a husband who 
ttnderly loved her, and whom she seems to have loved, 
the mournful prospect for her children, and her own 
sari fate, must entitle her to the commiseration of every 
feeling mind. 

, Memoirs of M. de Lamballe, &e. 

MALATESTA (BAPTISTA), Daughter of Guido, 

Prince of Urbino, and Wife of Galeas Malatesta, 
WAS one of the most beautiful and wisest persons of 
her time. She excelled not only in eloquence, but in 
philosophy and theology, and was author of many 
works, amongst which are, 1, De la Condition de la 
Fragility Humaine-, 2, De la Veritable Religion. There 
are also many letters of hers extant, written in a very 
elegant stile. After the death of her husband she became 
a nun at Urbino. 


MALEGUZZI (VERONICA), Daughter of the Count 
Gabriel Malegnzzi-Valery , of Reggio, in Lombardy, in 
the 17 th Century, 

WAS deeply versed in all speculative sciences and li- 
beral arts. She sustained twice public theses, and was 
patronized by the first people. She had also some ta- 
lent for poetry, as she wrote a prologue, in verse, to 
V Innocence Reconnue, a work in prose, which she pub- 
lished 1(560. She became afterwards a nun at Modena, 
where she led an exemplary life. , 

F. C. 

MALTPIERA (OLYMPIA), a Lady of Venice, who 

died Io59. 

MANY of her pieces are scattered in the poetical col- 
lections of the 17th century, and they are published in 
the Rime di Cinquante Poetesse, printed at Naples. 



MANLEY (MRS.), the celebrated Author of the New 
Atalaniis, was the Daughter of Sir Roger Man/ei/, and 
born in Guernsey, or one of those small Islands, of 
which her Father was Governor; died 1724. 

MRS. MANLEY received an education suitable to her 
birth; and gave early discoveries of a genius above her 
years. She had the misfortune to lose her mother while 
yet an infant, and her father before she was grown up; 
which was the cause of many calamities that betel her : tor 
she was cheated into a marriage by a relation of the same 
name, to whose care Sir Roger had bequeathed her, and 
Who at the time had a wife living. She waa brought to 
London, and soon deserted by him ; and in the morning 
of her life, passed away three wretched years in soli- 
tude. When she appeared in the world again, she fell 
by mere accident in the way of the duchess of Cleveland, 
a mistress of Charles II, who protected her for a little 
time; but being a woman of a fickle temper, she grew 
tired of her in six months, and discharged her un- 
der pretence that she intrigued with her son. On this 
she retired again into solitude, and wrote her first tra- 
gedy, called The Royal Mischief, which was acted at 
the theatre in Lincoln' s-Inn Fields, in 1696, and re- 
ceived such unbounded applause, that her acquaintance 
began to be courted by meh of wit and gaity ; and relax- 
ing from the conduct she had hitherto maintained, she 
afterwards engaged in a life of intrigue. In her retired 
hours she wrote the four vols. of the Memoirs of the 
New Atalantis, in which she was not only free with her 
own sex, but with many distinguished personages. 
Her father had always been attached to the cause of 
Charles I, and she herself had a confirmed aversion to 
a Whig ministry; so that many o-f the characters were 
only satires on those who had brought about the revolu- 
tion. Upon this a warrant was granted to seize the prin- 
ter and publisher; but Mrs. Manley, who had too much 
generosity to let them suffer on her account, volunta- 


rily presented herself before the court of King's Bench, 
as* the author. She was, however, admitted to bail ; 
and, from the feigned names and places of action, no- 
thing being brought home to her, she was acquitted. 
Not long after, a total change of ministry ensued, when 
she lived in high reputation, and amused herself with 
writing poems and letters, and conversing with wits. 
The second edition of a volume of her Letters was pub- 
lished in 1713. Lucius, the first Christian King of Great 
Britain, a Tragedy, was likewise acted at Drury-lane in 
1717. She dedicated it to Sir Richard Steele, whom 
she had abused in her Atalantis ; but with whom she 
was now on such good terms, that he wrote the pro- 
logue, as Mr. Prior did the epilogue. These, with the 
comedy of the Lost Lover, or the Jealous Husband, ac- 
ted in 1696, were all her dramatic works. She was 
employed in writing for Queen Anne's ministry, cer- 
tainly with the consent and privity, if not under the 
direction of Doctor Swift; during which time, she for- 
med a connexion with Mr. John Barber, alderman of 
London, at whose house she died 1724. 

Gen. Biog. Die. 

MANTO, Daughter of Tiresias-, a Woman famous in 
Antiquity for her Knowledge of Divination. 

AFTER the taking of Thebes by the seven chiefs, the 
Argives, to whose share Manto fell, and who had vowed 
to consecrate the most valuable part of their plunder to. 
Apollo, thought they fulfilled it, by sending this young 
woman to be his priestess at Delphi. She was mother 
of Amphilochus and Tisiphone, by Alcmeon, general 
of the army which took Thebes. Many of the ancient 
writers tell different fables concerning her: and Diodo- 
rus Siculus says, that she wrote a number of oracles, 
and that she was called the Sybil, from the inspiration of 



her answers. They say also, that Homer has ornamented 
his works with many of her verses. 

F. c. 


A BEAUTIFUL girl, whom Vasari saw at Mantua, 
in the year 1506; and at the night of whose finely 
rut intaglios, he expressed the greatest surprise and 

Abec. Pitt. 


A SCOTCH heroine, called by her countrymen, Black 
Agnes, defended thecastleof Dunbar successfully against 
the English, in about 1340. When a bulwark was 
battered by them, she would order her waiting-maids to 
brush off the dust with their handkerchiefs ; and when a 
dreadful engine approached, " Montague," she cried 
to the English commander, " beware!" and straightway 
it was crushed by an enormous mass of rock. 

> Andrew's Great Britain. 


called likewise Marchabruna, a Lady of the ancient 
House of Chabot, in Poitou, who came to live in Pro- 

LEARNED and polite, she had great talents for poetiy, 
and versified equally well in the Provenal and other liv- 
ing languages. Having chosen Avignon for her resi- 
dence, she held there what was called a court of love, 
which seems to have been an institution to criticize and 


encourage the lighter branches of literature. It was opea 
to all the poets, gentlemen and ladies of the country. 
She acquired so great a reputation,, that every little 
piece of her writing was esteemed a treasure. It does 
not appear that she had any other children than Marche- 
brusc, who was as good a poet as herself, and wrote a 
work On the Nature of Love, in which he recited all the 
good and evil that it produced. This poem has, how- 
ever, been attributed to his mother; and another, 
" Pictures of Love," said to be the one written by him. 
They flourished at Avignon, under the pontificate of 
Clement VI. 

Some have supposed that the sonnets Petrarch made 
against Rome, were made against the mother 'of Marche- 
bruyc; upon which Tassoni, in his reflections on that 
poet, says, " a certain Provencal, named Nostredamus, 
reports, we believe with little probability, that the three 
sonnets, Fiammiadal del, $c. L'Avara Babylonia, and 
Fontano di Dolore, were made against the mother of 
Marc Brusc, a Provencal poet, which lady also wrote 
poems, and was much celebrated in her time." 

F. c. 


A ROMAN widow, the intimate friend of Paula, and of 
Eustochium, Avho was instructed by her; from whence 
it is easy to judge, says St. jerom, the merit of a mis- 
tress who could form such disciples. It was in 3S2, 
that, going to Rome, he became acquainted with Mar- 
cella, who, being very learned in the scriptures, con- 
sulted him on many difficult passages. She was con- 
sulted from all parts, as a great theologian ; and , her 
answers were always dictated by prudence and humility. 
She was a great enemy to the heresy of Origen, who 
mingled the dogmas of philosophy with the doctrines of 
Christianity. She died 409, soon after Rome was taken 
by the Goths. 





A FEMALE painter, who drew many Roman women ; 
she surpassed, in velocity of pencil, Sopilus and 
Dionysius, the most celebrated painters of the age. 

Abecedario Pitt. 

MARCIA PRO-BA, Wife of GuitheUnd, King of the 
Ancient Britons, before the Birth of our Saviour. 

IT is said, that having lost her husband very young, 
she took into her own hand the reins of government, 
and employed herself in making his people happy, by 
the wise laws she gave them. These laws were called 
Leges Marciance, or the Marcian Laws. They were 
translated into Latin by Giidas, and into Saxon by- 
Alfred the Great. 



A POETESS of Sienna, in the 16th century, of much 



man of the rarest Piety , and of a Character fitted to 
throw a Lustre on the purest Ages. 

She was sister to Edgar Atheling, the grandson of Ed- 
mond Ironside. From the court of Solomon, king of 
Hungary, their grandfather, they came over to Eng- 
land; but on the accession of Harold, tied with their 
mother Agatha, and a younger sister, and were cast 
ashore on the coast of Scotland, where they were hos- 
pitably received by the king Malcolm, who, by the 
assistance of Edward the Confessor, had recovered the 



throne of Scotland from the usurper Macbeth. Malcolm^ 
in 10(3(), married Margaret. Wonderful things ar 
related of her piety, liberality, and humility. Through 
her influence the ferocious spirit of her husband received 
an happy tincture of humanity, and so high was his 
opinion of her wisdom, that he made her partaker of 
his power. She was thus enabled to reform the king- 
dom of Scotland, in a great degree; she rendered the 
people happier by a diminution of taxes, succoured 
the unfortunate, and introduced a more serious regard 
to the duties of the sabbath than had been known before 
in that country. She had, by Malcolm, six sons and 
three daughters. Three of the former reigned succes- 
sively, and were esteemed excellent monarchs. Her 
daughter, the wire of Henry I, of England, was lovely, 
patient, and -benevolent. She obtained the name of 
Matilda the Good. Margaret had taken uncommon 
care of her children's education, and the fruits of her la- 
bours appeared in their lives. Theodoric, her confessor, 
observes, that she was remarkably attentive in public 
prayer. " And," says he, ft she would discourse with me 
concerning the sweetness of everlasting life, in such a 
manner as to draw tears from my eyes." This same 
Theodoric, a mqnk of Durham, wrote her life. She 
was afflicted with sickness at the very time in which 
her husband Malcolm was slain afc A Imvick, in Northum- 
berland, in the reign of William Rufus, in 1093. The 
bitter news was brought to her ears, and her reflection 
upon it was truly Christian; " I thank thee, O Lord, 
that in sending me so great an affliction, thou wouldest 
purify me from my sins. O Lord Jesus Christ, who by 
thy death hast given life to the world, deliver me from 
evil." She survived this event only a few days. 

The domestics of this excellent woman were remark- 
able for their steadiness and good conduct. She *.' : r as 
anxious to know and amend her faults, and would often 
gently reprove her confessor, that he seemed not careful 
enough of her salvation, in pointing them out to her. 

" O 


" O how happy," said she, " are the poor, to whom 
truth is told!" By reason of the long wars which 
had desolated the kingdom, quarrels, murder, rapine, 
and licentiousness, raged among the nobles and people; 
indifference and irreligion among the clergy. Margaret, 
whose conjugal tenderness, unaffected wisdom, bene- 
volence and humility, had softened the heart, and 
won the entire confidence of her husband, -who held 
her in such reverence, that he would often kiss the 
book in which she said her prayers, pointed out to 
him these evils, and induced him to set about a re- 
form of all abuses ; to expedite the tediousness of law, to 
punish the corruptions of the courts of justice, to 
protect the poor, and repress the insolence of the sol- 
diers. The restoration of regularity in the church 
was also one of her great cares, Avhich she happily ac- 
complished. She built and repaired many churches, 
and established the custom of anointing the kings in 
Scotland, which was not heretofore practised. She 
made laws also to enforce temperance. She reasoned 
with those who did not receive the holy communion. 
" We are all -unworthy" said she, "but we are all 
equally enjoined" to partake of it.'* She served the 
poor in sickness, however loathsome or offensive, with 
assiduity and kindness, and appears to have been that 
best and wisest of all human characters, a true Christian. 

Idea of Perfect Ladies, &c. 

MARGARET (the Semimmis of the North J 9 third 
Daughter ofWaldcmar, King of Denmark-, born 1353, 
died suddenly 1412, at the Age of 59. 

AT the age of six she was contracted to Haquin, 
king of Norway ; but the Swedes, of whom his lather 
Magnus was king, insisted on hisur-enouncing the alliance ; 
and to oblige them, he consented to demand Elizabeth of 
Holstein in marriage. This princess, however, though 



espoused by proxy, was not destined to re place Margaret. 
A storm drove her on the coast of Denmark, where she 
was detained by Waldemar, until his daughter was 
married to Haquin, in 1366'. 

Waldemar died 1375, leaving two daughters, his other 
children had died before him. Margaret was the 
younger; but her son Olaiis, was king of Norway, and, 
as grandson to Magnus, who had however been deposed, 
had some claims on the crown of Sweden. The eldest 
daughter Ingeburga, duchess of Mecklenburg, had also a 
son ; but the rights of succession were then confused 
and of little certainty, and by means of Margaret the 
election was decided in favour of her son, then eleven 
years old, who was placed upon the throne, under her 
guidance as regent till he should be of age. Haquin 
died soon after. Olaiis died 1387, at the age of twen- 
ty-two ; with him the male line was extinct, and 
custom had not yet authorized the election of a wo- 
man. Henry of Mecklenburg, her brother in, omit- 
ted nothing that could forward his pretensions; but 
Margaret's genius and well-placed liberality, won 
over the bishops and the clergy, which was in effect 
gaining the greater part of the people, and she was 
unanimously elected to the crown of Denmark. But 
her ambition grasped at that of Norway also; she 
sent deputies to solicit the states, gained over the 
chief people by money, and found means to render 
herself mistress of the army and garrisons, so that, 
had the nation been otherwise disposed, she would 
in the end have succeeded ; but she gained them over 
to her measures as easily as she had those of Den- 
mark. The Norwegians," perceiving that the succession 
was in danger of being extinct, entreated her to secure 
it by an advantageous marriage, but she received the 
proposal coldly. To satisfy, however, their desire, she 
consented to appoint a successor; but fixed on one 
so young, that she should have full time to satiate 
her ambition, before he could be of age to take any 

Y share 


Miare in the government, yet, as being the true heir, 
and grandson of her sister., she contrived to make 
it appear more their choice than her own. 

She recommenced herself so strongly to the Swedes 
who were oppressed by their own king Albert, who 
had gone to war with her, that they renounced their 
allegiance to that prince and made her a solemn ten- 
der of their crown, thinking that her good sense 
ivould set bounds to her ambition, and prevent any 
encroachment on their rights. She accepted the offer 
inarched to their assistance, and defeated Albert* 
who was deposed after a war of seven years in 
J 388; 'and obliged him, after a seven years impri- 
sonment, and solemn renunciation of his crown, to re* 
tire to the dominions of his brother the duke of 
Mecklenburg. On this revolution in Sweden, Mar- 
garet assumed the reins of government, and was 
distinguished by the appellation of the Semiramis of * 
the North. 

In 1395 she associated with her in the three elective 
kingdoms her great nephew Eric, duke of Pomera- 
uia. She governed with absolute authority, and 
when reminded of her oaths, by the nobility, who 
added, " they had the records of it;" she replied, 
" I advise you to keep them carefully; as I shall keep 
the castles and cities of my kingdom, and all the 
rights belonging to my dignity." 

" This queen," says a French author, " was mag- 
nificent in her pleasures, grand in her projects, bril- 
liant in her court. She equalled, in the quickness 
and extent of her genius, the most famous politicians. 
The king Waldemar discovering in her, while yet a 
child, a surprising elevation of soul and mental re- 
sources, said that Nature had been deceived in form- 
ing her, and instead of a woman Had made a hero." 

Though merciful, she laid the wisest regulations 
for strict justice, and to prevent offenders being 
screened from punishment. Private oppressions and 



abuses she did away, and decreed that all manner 
of assistance should be given to those who were 
thrown on their coasts by shipwreck or misfortune; 
for which acts of humanity, rewards were provided by 
l aw . She renewed the ancient laws which had slept, 
and exerted all her powers to suppress piracies, in 
her kingdoms, and made such regulations as 
laid the foundations for future commerce: it was in 
her reign that we first meet with the mention in 
history of the copper mines of Sweden. 

At the treaty of Calmar, concluded in 13.07, she 
endeavoured to make the union of the three king- 
doms perpetual, and introduced Eric separately to 
all the deputies. She represented to them, with 
abundance of eloquence and address, the advantages 
that would accrue from the consolidation of the 
three nations into one kingdom. That it would put 
an end to the frequent wars that desolated them; 
render them entire masters of the commerce of the 
Baltic; keep in awe the Hanse towns, grown pow- 
erful by the divisions of her people; and acquire 
for them, all the conveniences which result from a 
perfect conformity of customs, laws and interest. 
The majesty of her person, the strength of her ar- 
guments, and the sweetness of her eloquence gain- 
ed over the deputies. They approved and established 
a fundamental law, which was received by the three 
nations, and solemnly confirmed by oath. This was 
the law so celebrated in the north, under the name 
of the Union of Calmar; which afterwards only ser- 
ved to shew how impotent are human wishes, 
though conceived with wisdom, and forwarded with 
address. This union afterwards gave birth to wars 
between Sweden and Denmark, without fulfilling 
the views of the projector. 

Margaret is charged with only one political error, 

that of suffering Olaiis to grant the important 

duchy of Sleswick to the house of Holstein, whose 

Y - enmitY 


enmity they wished thus to do away; but which 
proved a thorn in her side, till the* death of its 
duke, when she by her vigorous measures drove his 
successors to submit to hold their possessions as a 
fief from Denmark. 

Distinguished at the same time for moderation, 
solid judgement, enterprising and persevering ambition, 
Margaret receives different characters from the Da- 
nish and Swedish historians. The latter were pre- 
judiced against her, because she abridged the power 
of their nobles, and favoured the clergy ; but she was 
exceeded by none in prudence, policy and true 

Modern History. Anderson's Origin of Commerce, Ac, 

MARGARET of ANJOU, Daughter ofPegwer, titu- 
lar king of Sicily, Naples and Jerusalem, descended 
from a Count of Anjou, who had left those magnifi- 
cent Titles to his Posterity, without any real Power 
or Possessions. 

SHE was however the most accomplished princess 
of that age, both in body and mind ; and the rival 
parties of the cardinal of Winchester and the Duke of 
Gloucester, being then ambitious of choosing a wife 
for the young Hetary IT, King of England, that of 
the former prevailed, and Margaret was elected, who 
seemed to possess tliose qualities, which would en- 
able her to acquire an ascendant over Henry, and to 
supply all his defects and weaknesses. In 1443, the 
treaty of marriage was ratified in England; and 
Margaret., on her arrival, fell immediately into close 
connections with the cardinal and his party; who, 
fortified by her powerful patronage, resolved on the 
final ruin of the Duke of Gloucester, and that good 
prince at length fell a sacrifice to court intrigues, after 



being accused of treason and thrown into prison, 
where he was soon after found dead in his bed ; and, 
although his body bore ilo marks of outward violence, 
no one doubted but lie had fallen a victim to the ven- 
geance of his enemies. 

Henry being a mere cypher in the government, the 
administration was in the hands of the queen and the 
earl of Suffolk, who had contracted universal odium 
at the time of the duke of Yoik's aspiring to the crown. 
Margaret was considered as a, French woman, and a 
latent enemy to the kingdom, who had betrayed the 
interests of England, in favour of her family and coun- 
try. Suffolk was considered as her accomplice; and the 
downfal of tiie i)uke of Gloucester, who was universally 
beloved, in which they were both known to have been 
concerned, rendered them yet more obnoxious. 

The partizans of the Duke of York, taking advan- 
tage of this, impeached the carl of Suffolk of various 
crimes; and the king, in order to save his minister, 
banished him the kingdom for fi"e years. But his 
enemies, sensible that he enjoyed the queen's confi- 
dence, and would be recalled the first opportunity, got 
him intercepted and murdered on his passage. 

The duke of Somerset succeeded to Suilolk's power 
in the- administration, and credit with the queen; but 
he having been unfortunate in the French war, was 
equally the object. oi'cL.-iike, and the queen and council, 
unable to protect him, were obliged to give him up.- 
he was also sent to the tower; and, as Henry had fallen 
into a distemper which increased his naturaJ imbecility, 
the duke of York was created Protector during pleasure. 

Bat Henry recovering, was advis-d by his iV^-nds 
to reverse all this; in coiisc-jueiM-e, the duke of loik 
levied an army, fought a battle near St - ihans, and 
took the king prisoner; but treated him with lenity, and 
was again appointed protector. But this did not last 
long. The civil war broke out, with various success, 
till it was thus accommodated, at last, by the pariia- 
Y 3 merit; 


ment ; that Henry, who was now again a prisoner, 
should retain the dignity of king, during life, and that 
the duke should succeed" him, to the prejudice of his in- 
fant son, then in Scotland with his mother, who after 
the late battle at Northampton had fled with him to 
Durham, and from thence to Scotland: but soon return- 
ing, she applied to the Northern barons, and employed 
every argument to obtain their assistance. Her lia- 
bility, insinuation, and address, talents in which she 
excelled, aided by caresses and promises, wrought a 
powerful effect on all who approached her. The ad- 
miration of her great qualities was succeeded by com- 
passion towards her helpless situation. The nobility of 
that quarter entered warmly into her cause; and she 
soon found herself at the head of an army of twenty 
thousand men, collected with a celerity which was nei- 
ther expected by her friends, nor apprehended by her 

In the mean time, the duke of York hastened north- 
ward with a body of five thousand men to suppress, as 
he imagined, the beginnings of insurrection. He met 
the queen near Wakefield ; and, though he found him- 
self so much outnumbered, his pride would not per- 
mit him to flee before a woman. He gave battle, 
was killed in the action; and his body being found 
among the slain, his head was cut of} by Margaret's 
orders, and fixed on the gates of York, with a paper 
crown upon it, in. derision of his pretended title. 

Immediately after this important victory* Margaret 
man bed towards London, where the earl of Warwick 
was left with the command of the Yorkists. On the 
approach of the Lancastrians, that nobleman led out 
his army, reinforced by a strong body of Londoners, 
and gave battle to the queen at St A loan's, 1461. 
Margaret was again victorious ; she had the plea- 
Kiirr. of seeing ihe formidable "Warwick flee before 
her, and of rescuing the king her husband from cap- 



But her triumph, though glorious, was of short 
duration, and not altogether complete. Warwick was 
still in possession of London, on which she made 
an unsuccessful attempt; and Edward, eldest son of 
the late duke of York, having gained an advantage 
over the Lancastrians at Mortimer's Cross, near Here- 
ford, advanced upon her from the other side, and 
was soon in a condition to give her battle with su- 
perior forces. She was sensible of her danger in 
such a situation, and retreated with her army to 
the north; while Edward entered the capital amidst 
the acclamations of the citizens, where he was soon 
proclaimed king, under the title of Edward IV. 

Young Edward, now in his twentieth year, was 
of a temper well fitted to make his way in these 
times of war and havock. He was not only bold, 
active, and enterprizing, but his hardness of heart ren- 
dered him impregnable to all those movements of 
compassion, which might relax his vigour in the prose- 
cution of the most bloody designs against his ene- 
mies. Hence the scaffold, as well as the field, du- 
ring his feign, incessantly smoked with the noblest 
blood in England. The animosity between the two 
families was become implacable, and the nation, di- 
vided in its affections, took different party symbols. 
.The adherents of the house of Lancaster chose, as their 
mark of distinction, the red rose; those of York as- 
sumed the white: and these civil wars were thus 
known all over Europe by the name of the "Quar- 
rel betAveen the Two Roses." 

Queen Margaret, as I have observed, had retired 
to the north. There great multitudes flocked to 
her standard ; and she was able, in a few weeks, 
to assemble an army of sixty thousand men. Edward 
and the earl of Warwick hastened with forty thou- 
sand, to check her progress. The two armies met 
at Towton; and, after an obstinate conflict, the 
battle terminated in a total victory on the side of 

Y 4 the 


the Yorkists. Edward would give no quarter, and 
the routed army was pursued as far as Tadcaster, 
with great Woodshed and confusion. Above thirty- 
six thousand men are said to have fallen in the 
battle and pursuit Henry and Margaret had remained 
at York during the action; but learning the defeat of 
their army, fled with great precipitation into Scot- 
land. The queen of England however found there 
a people little less divided by faction than those 
she had left Their king being a minor, and the 
regency disputed by two opposite parties. They 
agreed however to assist them, on her offering to 
deliver up to them the important fortress of 'Ber- 
wick, and to contract her son to a sister of their 
king. The dauntless Margaret, stimulated by natu- 
ral ambition, with her northern auxiliaries, and the 
succours from France, ventured once more to take 
the field, and make an inroad into England. But 
she was able to penetrate no farther than Hexham. 
There she was attacked by lord Montacute, brother 
to the earl of Warwick, and warden of the marches, 
\vho totally routed her motley army, and all who 
were spared in the field suffered on the scaffold. 

The fate of this unfortunate heroine, after this 
overthrow, was equally singular and affecting. She* 
fled with her son into a forest, where she endea- 
voured to conceal herself; but was beset during the 
darkness of the night by robbers, who despoiled her 
of her jewels, and treated her with the utmost in- 
dignity. She made her escape, however, while they 
were* quarrelling about the booty; and wandered some 
time with her son in the most unfrequented thickets, 
spent with hunger and fatigue, and ready to sink beneath 
the load of terror and affliction. In this wretched 
condition she was met by a robber, with his sword 
naked in his hand; and, seeing no mtans of es- 
cape, suddenly embraced the bold resolution of trust- 
ing entirely to his faith and generosity. " Approach, 



my friend!*' cried she, presenting to him the young 
prince! ' to you I commit the safety of j^our king's 
son." Struck with the singularity of the event, and 
charmed with the confidence reposed in him, the rob- 
ber became her protector. By his favour she dwelt 
concealed in the forest, till she found an opportu- 
nity to make her escape into Flanders, whence she passed 
to her father in France, and lived several years 
in privacy and retirement. Henry was less fortunate. 
He lay concealed during twelve months .in Lanca- 
shire; but was at last detected, delivered up to Ed- 
ward, and thrown into the Tower, 1405. 

In 1470, however, Warwick had been sent to 
France to negociate a marriage between Edward IV, 
and Bona of Savoy ; but Edward had, in his absence, 
given ills people an English queen. This the earl 
resented; and though Edward knew he had been 
ill used, he was too proud to make an apology; and 
Warwick, in revenge, drew over the duke of Clarence 
to his party, by marrying him to his eldest daughter, 
coheiress of his immense fortune, besides many other 
discontented lords. Finding his own name insufficient, 
and being chased to France, Warwick entered into a 
league with queen Margaret, formerly his inveterate 

On his return to England, he was joined by the 
whole of the Lancastrians. Both parties prepared 
for a general decision by arms; and a decisive 
action was every moment 'expected, when Edward, 
finding himself betrayed by the marquis of Monta- 
gue, and suspicious of his other commanders, sud- 
denly abandoned his army and fled to Holland. 
II- nry VI. was taken from his confinement ifi the 
lower, and placed once more upon the English 
throne; ar-d a parliament, called under the influence 
of Warwick, declared Edward IV. an usurper. 
, But so fugitive a thing is public favour, that 
'Warwick was no sooner at the helm; of govern- 

Y 5 ' ment 


raent than his popularity began to decline, though 
he docs not appear to have "done any thing to de- 
serve it. The young king was emboldened to return ; 
and though he brought with him but two thou- 
sand men, he soon found himself in a condition to 
obey the call. The city of London opened its gates 
to Edward ; who thus became at once master of 
his capital and of the person of his rival Henry, 
doomed to be the perpetual sport of fortune. The 
arrival of Margaret, whose presence would have 
been of infinite service to her party, was every day 
expected. In the mean time the duke of Clarence 
deserted to the king, and the two parties came 
to a general engagement. The battle was fought 
with great obstinacy, and uncommon valour on both 
sides; but an accident threw at last the ballance 
on that of the Yorkists. Edward's cognisance was 
a sun; Warwick's, a star with rays; and the 
mistiness of the morning rendering it difficult to 
distinguish them, a body of the Lancastrians were 
attacked by their friends, and driven off the field. War- 
wick did all that experience, conduct, or valour, could 
suggest to retrieve the mistake, but in vain. He 
had engaged on foot that day, contrary to his usual 
practice, in order to shew his troops, that he was 
resolved to share every danger with them; and now, 
sensible that all was lost, unless a reverse of fortune 
could be wrought by some extraordinary effort, he 
rushed into the thickest of the engagement, and fell, co- 
vered with of wounds. His brother, under- 
went the same fate; and as Edward had issued orders 
to give no quarter, a great and undistinguishing slaugh- 
ter was made in the pursuit. 

Queen Margaret, and her son prince Edward, now 
about eighteen years of age, landed from France the 
same day on which that decisive battle was fought. 
She had hitherto sustained the shocks of fortune with 
surprizing fortitude ; but when she received intelligence 



of her husband's captivity, and of the defeat and death 
of the earl of Warwick, her courage failed her, and 
she took sanctuary in the abbey of Beaulieu, in Hamp- 

Encouraged, however, by the appearance of Tudor, 
earl of Pembroke, and several other noblemen, who 
exhorted her still to hope for success, she resumed her 
former spirit, and determined to assert to the last her 
son's claim to the crown of England. Putting herself once 
more at the head of the army, which increased in 
every day's march, she advanced through the counties 
of Devon, Somerset and Gloucester. But the- ardent 
and expeditious Edward overtook her at Tewkesbury, 
on the banks of the Severn, where the Lancastrians 
were totally routed and dispersed. Margaret and her 
son were taken prisoners, and brought lo the king, 
who asked the prince, in an imperious tone; How he 
dared to invade his dominions? " I came hither," re- 
plied the undaunted youth, more mindful of his high 
birth than his present fortune, "to revenge my father's 
wrongs, and rescue my .just inheritance out of your 
hands. " Incensed at his freedom, instead of admi- 
ring the boldness of his spirit, the ungenerous Edward 
barbarously struck him on the face with his gauntlet; 
and the dukes of Clarence and Gloucester, Lord 
Hastings, and Sir Thomas Gray, taking this blow as a " 
signal for farther violence, hurried him aside, and in- 
stantly dispatched him with their daggers. Margaret 
was thrown into the Tower, where her husband had just 
expired : whether by a natural or violent death is un- 
certain, though it fs generally believed the duke of 
Gloucester killed him with his own hands. 

The hopes of the house of Lancaster were thus ex- 
tinguished by the death of every legitimate prince of 
that family. Edward, who hud no longer any enemy 
that could give him anxiety or alarm, was encouraged 
once more to indulge himrelf in pleasure and amuse- 
ment; but he was not deaf to the calls of ambition, 



and planned an invasion of France. He passed over 
in 1475, to' Calais, with a formidable army; but 
Lewis proposed an accommodation by no means honour- 
able to France, except in one article, which was a 
stipulation for the life of Margaret, who was still de- 
tained in custody by Edward. Lewis paid fifty thou- 
sand crowns for her ransom; and this princess, who, in 
active scenes of life, had experienced so remarkably the 
vicissitudes of fortune, passed the remainder of her day s 
in priv.icy. The situations into which she was thrown in 
a manner unsexed her; as she had the duties and 
hardships of a man to encounter, she partook of 
the same character, and was as much tainted with fe- 
rocity, as endowed with the courage of the age in 
which she lived; though the pictures which remain 
of her shew a countenance at once mild and dig- 

She died 1481, as is supposed of grief for the 
misfortunes of a husband and son she had FO faith- 
fully served, having in person fought twelve battles. 

Modern Europe. &c. 


dest Daughter of James L of Scotland , 

WAS contracted, in 1-1C8, at the age of eight, 
to the Dauphin, afterwards Lewis IX, and the 
marriage was celebrated eight years after, at Tours. 
She was a princess of merit, and particularly at- 
tached to learning and the learned. It is said that 
Alain Chartier, one of the best poets and orators of 
his time, was the ugliest man in France; and that 
Margaret, passing with some of her ladies through 
a hall where he lay asleep, approached and kissed 
him, which surprised the ladies, who reproached 
her with having bestowed that honour upon a man 


who, in their opinion, so little deserved it. "I 
have not kissed him," said she, "but the lips 
which have spoken so many beautiful things " 

Margaret had not been beloved by her husband ; 
but, sensible of her worth, he shed many tears on 
losing her in 1444. Her death is said to have 
been occasioned by her grief at calumnious reports 
which attacked her virtue. 

F. c. 

VARRE), Sister of Francis /, and Daughter of 
Charles of Orleans and Lou if a of Savoy, born 1492; 
married, 1509, to Charles, last Duke of Alengon, first 
Prince of the Blood and Constable of France, who died 
at Lvons, after the Battle of Pavia, 1525 ; she died 
1549, aged 57. 

AFFLICTED at the death ,of her husband, and 
no less at the captivity of a brother she tenderly loved, 
Margaret went to Madrid, . on purpose to comfort 
the latter in his sickness, and found him in so 
pitiable a state, that if she had not gone, as he 
afterwards declared, he should have died ; and by 
her firmness, she engaged Charles V. to abate the ri- 
gour of his confinement; but knowing his constitu- 
tion, and the turn of his mind, better than all 
his physicians, she paid such unremitting attention 
to both, that he soon recovered. On his return 
to France, he gave her the most evident proofs of 
his gratitude and affection; and marned her, in 
1527, to Henry d'Albret, king of Navarre and 
prince of Beam, by whom she had the celebrated 
Jane d'Albret. 

By her marriage articles she had more power and 
privileges than queens generally have; and in con- 
cert with her husband, devoted ail her cares to the 
benefit of her subjects : and they had the pleasure of 



seeing their wisdom and patriotism rewarded, by 
the flourishing state of the kingdom. By the en- 
couragement she lent to free reliaious discussion, 
and the favour she shewed the reformers, she 
laid the ground work of the protestant religion in 
that kingdom. It has been said by the catholics, 
that she died in their communion; and they affirmed 
that the countenance she had all along shewn to 
the protestants was merely from a spirit of tole- 
ration and compassion for their sufferings. This, 
however, is not probable. She was a constant rea- 
der of the Bible, and had a fancy to have plays 
taken from different parts of it, and acted before 
herself and the king, in which the follies and vices 
of the Romish ecclesiastics were severely handled : 
and throughout her works, she takes every opportu- 
nity of commenting upon them. She at one time 
interceded so powerfully with her brother, who was 
tenderly attached to her, and painted so eloquently 
the sufferings of the Huguenots, that he appeared in- 
clined to favour them, till some zealots so an^ere-d 
him by libels, that he began to persecute them, 
and Margaret could no more interfere in their fa- 
vour. She had written a book, called The Mirror 
of sinful Souls, which was censured by the Sorbonne, 
who, however, were induced to deny their award, 
at the interference of Francis, who, though in some 
instances he felt disposed to blame her, would let 
no indignities be offered to his beloved sister, with- 
out resenting them. The constable Montmorenci told 
him once, that if he would exterminate heretics, 
he must begin with his own family, thereby allu- 
ding to Margaret: but he answered, he would hear 
no more on that head; saying, she. loved him too- 
well to disbelieve what he believed, or to embrace 
a religion prejudicial to the state. Yet he could not 
be ignorant of her sentiments, which she took no 
great pains to conceal, openly hearing and protect- 


ing the popular ministers of the reformed. In this 
she suffered some vexations from her husband, who 
being told that they said prayers, and gave some 
instructions in the queen's chamber, contrary to the 
doctrine and practice of his ancestors, went in with a 
design to punish the minister; but finding he had 
escaped, his anger fell on his spouse, to w r hom he 
gave a blow, saying, " Madam, you want to be too 
wise!" and immediately acquainted her brother with 
what he had done ; but Francis, ever mindful of his 
dignity and affection, severely reprimanded him for it. 

This princess disliked to hear the name of death. 
She used often to say to those who discoursed of it, 
and the happiness which ensues, " all this is true; 
but we continue so long before we enjoy it." 

Her curiosity in attending the last moments of a 
dying person is remarkable. It was one of her maids- 
of honour. Some of her ladies asked her, why she 
looked on her with so much attention? She answered, 
that having often heard many learned men assert, 
that the soul left the body the moment it died, she 
was willing to see if there came from it any per- 
ceptible noise, or sound, but that she could perceive 
nothing. She gave a reason of her expectation, 
which was, that having asked the same learned men 
why a swan sings before it dies, they answered, that 
it was on account of the spirits, which were labour- 
ing to get out through its long neck. Thus, she said, 
she had also a mind to see that soul or spirit go out, or 
hear the noise or sound it made at leaving the body. 
She added, that if she were not well settled in the 
faith, she should not know what to think of its sepa- 
ration from the body; but that she would believe what 
, her God and her church commanded her without any 
further inquiry. 

Her Heptameron was a collection of stories in the 
manner of Boccacio, composed in a flowing and beau- 
tiful stile, and evidently intended to forward the in- 


terests of virtue, though written in a stile too free 
to be at present allowable, although perhaps not consi- 
dered so at the time- They display great wit and ferti ty 
of invention, and some are founded on real life. She 
used to write them at her ease, in her carriage. They 
were published at Amsterdam, 1<><)2, 2 vols. 8vo. 
John de la Have, her valet de chambre, collected her 
poems, and published them, 1547, 8vo. with this 
title : Les Marguerites de la Margi<er : te des Princesses, 
tres illustre Reine de Navarre They consist of four 
mysteries or pious dramas, and two farces ; le Triomphe 
de.Li 1 Agneau, a poem; Thirty Spiritual Songs; and 
Le Miroir de F Ame P$ckeresse\ with other pieces on 
various subjects, which display much wit and inven- 

Margaret was eloquent and beautiful, and had great 
political knowledge. During the imprisonment of her 
brother, she assisted Louisa, her mother, in the re- 
gencyand was of great use in conciliating- the no- 
bility, and maintaining the peace of the kingdom," 
from h^r affability and address. She was verv chari- 
tab'.e, and " ne dedaignant personne" thought nobody 
beneath her attention. 

Mrs. Thicknesse. L'AcIvocat. F. C, &c. 


(iriiu utnst be distinguished from . the precedingj 

.Daughter of Henry It. L\>ng of France, and Cathe- 
rine de Medicis; born 1552, died 16T5, aged 63. 

BKANTOMG says, if ever there was a perfect beauty 
born, it was the queen of Navarre, who eclipsed 
the women who were counted most charm in-: in her 
absence. Others say, that she had more grace and 
youthuilness about her than beaufy; that she walked 
mil, and was the best daucer in Europe. She gave 



farly proofs of genius, and* was a brilliant assemblage 
of talents and faults, of virtues and vices. This may 
be naturally attributed to her education in the most 
polished and at the same time the most corrupt court 
in Europe. Margaret was demanded in marriage both 
by the emperor and tin: king of Portugal ; but, in 
1572, was married to Henry, prince of Beam, after- 
wards Henry IV, of France. Nothing could equal 
the magnificence of this marriage, which was succeeded 
by the horrors of St. Bartholomew. Margaret, though 
far from strict in her way of life, was strongly attached to 
the Catholic religion ; but she was not intrusted with the 
secrets of that horrible day. She was alarmed with 
suspicions, which her mother would not sufler to 
be explained to her, and terrified by a gentleman, 
covered with wounds and followed by four archers, 
bursting into her r^om, and clinging round her. Scarce 
could her prayers obtain his life; and, after faint- 
ing with terror by the way, at the feet of her mo- 
ther, her tears obtained grace for two of her husband's 
suite. Henry escaped the fate prepared for him, and 
Margaret refused to sutler the marriage to be cancelled. 
In 1573, when the Polish ambassadors came to 
elect her brother, the link,- ot Anjou, king of their 
country, Margaret, as a daughter of France, received 
them. " The bishop of Cracow made his harangue in 
Latin, which she ^ nderstood, and answered with so much 
eloquence, that they heard her with astonishment and 
deihrht. She accompanied the duke on his way 
to Pblaftd, as far as iilamont, and during this journey 
heard of a plot of her hu.^b-ud and Henry her next brother, 
who was become duke of Anjou, to avenge the massacre, 
which she revealed to her mother, on condition that no 
executions should iouow the prevention of the plot. The 
princes finding their designs discovered, put off the execu- 
tion to another time; but they were seized, and impri- 
soned. r 3ke death of Ciwrles IX.. set them at liberty; but 
the hopes Margaret entertained of being of more consi- 


deration on the accession of Henry III. were tlisap* 
pointed, by means of the queen mother, and Dugast hia 
favourite, who abused her to him as the tie of 
friendship between the king of Navarre and the duke 
of Anjou, as also of intrigues with one name Bide; 
and the brave Eussi d'Amhoise, who was, at least, 
passionately in iove with her, and whom she evi- 
dently had great esteem lor, from the .high terms in 
which she' mentions him; with respect to the first, 
she appears wholly justified. 

The king of Navarre, whose heart was continually oc- 
cupied by new beauties, cared little for the reputation 
of his wife; yet, when he stole from the court, recom- 
mended his interest to her care in a polite letter. She was, 
however, confined a prisoner in her apartment, her confi- 
dents were treated with the greatest severity; but the po- 
litic Catherine prevented the king from pushing matters 
to extremity with her, by whose means she brought 
about a short peace. Margaret demanded permission to 
retire to her husband in Guyenne; but Henry III. an- 
swered, that he would not permit his sister to live with 
a heretic. The Catholic league was soon concluded, 
of which he was declared chief, and an open war 
commenced against the protestants. Margaret with- 
drew into the Low Countries, to prepare the people 
in favour of the duke of Alencjon, who meditated the 
conquest of them from the Spaniards. There are curi- 
ous details of this journey in her memoirs. On her 
return, she stopped at Fere, inPicardy, which belonged 
to her, where she learnt that, for the sixth time, 
peace was made in 1577- The duke of Alenqon came 
to Picardy, and was delighted with the pleasures that 
reigned in the little court of Margaret, compared with 
the cabal and unpleasantness of that of France. She 
soon returned to France, where love, religion, and 
treachery reigned in every political movement, and 
there lived with Henry, at Pau, in Beam, where re- 
ligious toleration was, on the part of the Protestants, 



almost denied her; and Henry shewed her little kind- 
ness ; yet the care and tenderness with which she 
nursed "him, during his illness, re-established friend- 
ship hetween them from 1577 to 1580, when .the 
war again broke out. She wished to etfect ano- 
ther reconciliation; but was not listened to, and 
all she could obtain was the neutrality of the town 
of Xerac, where she resided. 

After the war, Henry III. was determined to draw the 
king of Navarre, and Margaret's favourite brother, 
the duke of Anjou, again to his court, and for 
this purpose wrote to his sister to come to him. Dis- 
contented with the conduct of her husband towards 
her, she gladly obeyed in 1582; yet so much was her bro- 
ther irritated at her affection for the duke of Anjou, that 
lie treated her very unkindly. Some time after a cou- 
rier, whom he had sent to Rome with an important 
letter, being poignarded by four cavaliers, who took 
his dispatches from him, he suspected his sister of being 
concerned in the plot. And publickly reproached her 
with the irregularity of her conduct; saying every 
thing that was bitter and taunting. Margaret all the 
while kept a profound silence; but left Paris the next 
morning, frequently repeating as she went, that there 
had never been two princesses so unfortunate as her- 
self and the queen of Scots. On the journey she was 
stopped by an insolent captain of the guards, who 
obliged her to unmask; it was then the custom for 
ladies to travel in masks, which were tied to a 
ribbon round their waist, and hung down when they 
entered a town. He also interrogated the ladies with 
her, and took down their answers in writing. Henry 
IV. when he knew the truth, resented the unworthy 
treatment she experienced from her brother. He re- 
ceived her at Nerac; but could not dissimulate the dis- 
gust her conduct occasioned. She was engaged in new 
intrigues there, and the breach grew daily wider between 

them ; 


them; when, on his being excommunicated, she left 
him, and went to A gen, then from place to place, 
and experienced many dangers, difficulties, and much- 
inquietude. Her charms made a conquest of the mar- 
quis de Carnihac, who had taken her prisoner; but 
though he hiFuivd her a place of refuge in the castle 
of Usson, she had daily the misery of seeing her friends 
cut to pieces in the plains below; and, though the 
fortress was impregnable, wus assailed by famine, 
forced to sell her jewels, and even then, had it not 
been for the aid of her sister-in-law, Eleanor of Aus- 
tria, she must have perished. The duke of Anjou 
was dead, who would have protected her; and though 
she might have returned, after the accession of her hus- 
band to the throne of France, on condition of consent- 
ing to a divorce, she would never do so during the 
life of Gabrieile d'Eslrees. After her death, tired of 
the retreat she lived in, she herself solicited Clement 
VIII. to forward it, which he did, and Henry was 
married to Mary de Medicis in 1600 Margaret, ia 
the mean time, made herself serviceable to the king, 
and in recom pence was permitted to return to court in 
1605, after an absence ot C 2 2 years. She even assisted at 
the coronation of Mary de* Medicis, where etiquette 
obliged her to walk after Henry's sister. She consoled 
herself by pleasure, for the ios.- of honours; and though 
Henry IV. begged her to be more prudent, and not 
to turn night into day and d iy into night, she paid 
little attention to his advice. She passed her last years 
in devotio ^tudy, and pleasure. She gave the tenth 
of her re os "to the poor; but did not pay her 
debts. The memoirs which she has left, which finish 
at the time when she reappeared at court, prove the 
elegant facility of her pen, and the curious preserve 
pieces of her poetry, which equal those of the best 
poets of her ti ne. She was particularly fond of the 
company of learned men, especially of the famous 



Brantome, who has numbered her amongst his lllus~ 
trious Women. " Margaret," s;\id Catherine de Medicis, 
" is a living proof of the injustice of the Salic law; with 
her talents, she might have equalled the greatest 

" The last of the house of Valois, she," says Me- 
zeray, '* inherited their spirit; she never gave to any 
one, without apologizing for the smallness of the gift. 
She was the refuge of men of .letters, had always 
some of them at her table, arid improved so much 
by their conversation, that she spoke and wrote better 
than any woman of her time." 

She appears to have been good-natured and bene- 
volent; and wanting in fidelity, not in complaisance, 
to her husband, as, at his request, she got up one 
morning to attend one of his mistresses who was ill. 

F. c. &e. 

MARGARET OF AUSTRIA, Duchess of Savoy, 
only Daughter of the Emperor Maximilian I. ; born 

AFTER the death of her mother, was sent to France, 
to be educated by Charlotte of Savoy, wife of Louis XI. 
where she was contracted to the tlauphin, afterwards 
Charles VIII. ; but this prince choosing the more 
advantageous match of Anne of Brittany, whom he 
married "in 1491, Margaret was sent back to her father, 
and given in marriage to John, infant of Spain, 1497. 
It is said, while she was on her voyage to espouse 
this prince, a violent storm arose, during which she 
made the following epitaph upon herself. 

C'y git Margot, la gente Demoiselle, 
Qu'eut deux Maris, et si mourut Pucelle. 



She had the presence of mind to fasten these lines 
aud her jewels round her arm, with a waxed cloth. 
The storm, however, abated; and, after being 
obliged to lie by a little tims in England, she reached 
Gallicia, and the marriage was celebrated at Bur- 
gos soon after. But her husband did not live long ; 
and Margaret was, in 1501, married to Philip the 
handsome, duke of Savoy, who died 1504, upon 
which she retired into Germany, to the court 
of her father, who made her governess of the Low 
Countries for his grandson, Charles of Austria. Here 
she acquired great reputation, by her wise and prudent 
conduct. She was averse to the doctrines of Luther; 
and died 1550, aged 30. She left many works, as 
well in prose as in French verse ; amongst others, An 
account of her life and misfortunes. She was buried 
in the beautiful church she had built at Bamgen-bressc, 
where is her motto, fortune, infortune, furs une- which 
the curious explain differently. Henry Cornelius 
Agrippa, her counsellor and historiographer, composed 
her funeral oration, arid John le Maine wrote in honour 
of her, la Couronne Margaritique. Lyons, 1541). 

F. C. &c. 

MARGARET OF FRANCE, Duchess of Berri and 
Savoy, Daughter of Francis I. ; born 1523 ; 

LEARNED Greek and Latin, professed herself a patro- 
ness of the sciences and learned men, and, after 
her father's death, gained a great name by her beauty, 
piety, learning, and amiable qualities. She married 
Emanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy, 1559, and died 
of a pleurisy 1574, aged 51, occasioned, as it was 
thought, by her anxiety to perform properly the offices 
of hospitality to Henry 111. and his suite, on his re- 
turn from Poland. The most illustrious of the lite- 



rati contended who should praise her best, and her 
subjects called her the Mother of her People. 

L' Advocates Diet. 

MARIAMNE, (Wife of Herod the Great] ; and her Mo- 
ther, ALEXANDRA, Daughter of Hyrcanus, High 
Priest of Jerusalem, Wife of Alexander, the Son of 
Aristobuhis, second King of the Asmonean Line, and 
Mother of two Children, Aristobulus, and Marianme 
the Wife of Herod. 

HER husband having been beheaded by the com- 
mand of Pompey, we hear nothing ,of Alexandra 
till the time of Herod being betrothed to her daugh- 
ter, when it appeared that he put much confi- 
dence in her wisdom, and in many instances was 
guided by her judgement and penetration. Herod 
had been made tetrarch by Mark Antony, and 
when the Parthians had joined Antigonus the younger 
son of the last king, who had also assumed that 
title, Herod went to Rome with his family, inten- 
ding to ask the sovereign authority for his wife's 
brother, who was of the royal blood; but, through 
the friendship of Antony, it was bestowed upon 
himself, who was descended from the Idumean pro- 
selytes, and not from the original stock of the 
Jews. As soon as he was settled in his kingdom, 
he married Mariamne, yet very young and of great 
beauty. The Parthians had taken Hyrcanus prisoner, 
and to disqualify him from officiating again as high- 
priest, cut off his ears ; and, though he afterwards re- 
turned from captivity, it was needful another should he 
elected; but Herod, jealous of the claims of the family, 
appointed an abject person to this high dignity. Alex- 
andra, seeing her son again disappointed of the honours 
his birth seemed to promise him, laid it much to heart, 
and wrote a letter to Cleopatra, desiring her interces- 


sion with Antony, that this new appointment might 
be set aside. Cleopatra seemed warmly to espouse 
her interest; Antony, who had been won by Herod's 
gifts, was slow in granting her requests; but the 
fear of what it might lead to, and the entreaties 
of Mariamne, at length persuaded Herod to a 
seeming compliance. He knew, if once made high- 
priest, this young man, whose beauty and digni- 
fied appearance won much upon the people, could 
not leave the country. He therefore displaced the 
one he had appointed, to invest Aristobulus with 
that office; and Alexandra made the best ex- 
cuse she could for the steps she had taken, though 
she was not without her suspicions that all was 
not right. Jealous of her attempting new innova- 
tions, Herod commanded that she should dwell in 
the palace, and meddle no more with public affairs. 
He likewise placed spies around her, till she be- 
came impatient under these hardships, began tho- 
roughly to hate him, wishing rather to undergo 
any thing than be deprived of the liberty of speech, 
and, under the notion of an honorary guard, to 
live always in a state of terror and constraint. She, 
therefore, again applied to Cleopatra, who advised 
her to flee with her son into Egypt. In order to 
do this, Alexandra had two coffins made, and di- 
rected some of her servants to carry them away in 
the night-time out of the city, in order to convey them to 
Egypt. But through the indiscretion of one of them 
the plan came to the ears of Herod, who suffered 
her to proceed in the plan that he might catch her in it. 
Yet still, fearful of the hatred of Cleopatra, who 
wished for his dominions, he dared not punish her 
as he desired, but made a show of generosity, and 
soon after contrived to have her son drowned, as 
it were by accident. But Alexandra was not to be 
so deceived, her despair was so violent that the 
hopes of revenge alone prevented her laying violent 



hands upon herself, and in this hope she smothered the 
dark suspicions of her bosom. A magnificent funeral 
was prepared by Herod, who affected the most poig- 
nant sorrow; and when he saw the lifeless body of 
this beautiful young person, scarce eighteen years 
of age, he might in reality feel something like re- 
jnorse. Alexandra again wrote to Cleopatra, who 
now urged Antony so warmly to revenue l!/,- 
younsr VucUi's murder, that he summoned Herod to 
appear before him, and answer to the charge. Fan- 
cying that Antony was in love with his wife, from 
the reports he had formerly heard of her beauty, 
he left the kingdom in the care of his uncle Joseph; 
desiring, if any thing fatal happened to him, that 
he would immediately put her to death. This im- 
prudent man, whose situation made him frequently 
about the queen, often talked to her of the greaf. 
love her husband bore towards her, and when she 
or Alexandra turned his discourse into raillery, he 
mentioned the charge he had received, as a proof 
that he could not bear even the separation of death. 
They, however, thought very differently of the mat- 
ter. The mother and sister of Herod hated Mari- 
amne, who, proud of the superiority of her own. 
birth, treated them frequently with disdain; so that 
on his return from Antony, whom he had rendered 
as usual favourable by presents, they accused 
her of improper familiarity with his uncle. The 
defence of Mariamne, however, pacified the king, 
and he made an apology for having believed aiignt 
against her, acknowledged her merit, and they 
were completely reconciled ; till, proceeding in as- 
surances of his confidence and love, Mariamne, 
recollecting this order, reproached Herod with it, who 
now, confirmed that the accusations were true or his 
uncle would ntft have betrayed him, in the agon^ 1 
of his mind, was near destroying her; but imme~ 
diately caused Joseph to be slain, and her mother 

z to 


to be kept in close confinement, accusing her 
as the cause of all. His mind, however, after- 
wards , became tranquil, and love was reestablish- 
ed between them till frerh injuries roused a grea- 
ter degree of hatred against him, in her bosom. 
Her grandfather, Hyrcanus, out of his partiality to 
his native country, wished to return there, espe- 
cially since the iir^iTJ^e cf lie-rod insured, as he 
supposed, his protection. He, therefore, came to 
Jerusalem ; and being of a mild nature, interfered 
not in the government; but Herod, suspecting that 
Alexandra would urge him to recover his right, ac- 
cused him of having invited over the Arabians by 
letter for that purpose, and caused him to be put 
to death. As soon as this was done, he prepared 
himself to attend the award of Augustus, who had 
lately defeated Antony at Actiuin. Having little 
to expect from his friendship, and fearing Alex- 
andra might cause an insurrection in the kingdom, 
he caused her and his wife to be separated from 
the rest of his family, and placed under the care 
of his treasurer and Sohemus, at Alexandrium, a 
strong fortress.- They had always been faithful 
to him; and he commanded them, if any mischief 
should befal him, to destroy them both and, as 
far as they were able, secure the kingdom to his 
sons and brother. 

Remembering his former behaviour, Mariamne and 
her mother were suspicious in the present instance; 
and by paying all possible court to their keepers, 
especially Sohemus, by presents and promises, they 
prevailed upon him to reveal the secret of his com- 
mands as there was little probability of Herod's 
safe return. Contrary, however, to expectation, he 
made his peace with Caesar, and returned triumphant; 
but Mariamne, feeling no security for her life while 
united to him, and the highest disdain of that love 
she considered as so hypocritical, did not attempt to 



conceal her resentment, although she did not declare the 
cause. She appeared rather distressed than rejoiced at 
his good fortune, and returned his caresses with a deep 
groan. Furious at the hatred he saw she bore towards 
him, he would instantly have commanded her to be 
put to death, but that he felt it would be a heavier 
punishment on himself than on her. Thus he 
sometimes upbraided, sometimes- reconciled himself 
to her; while his mother and sister were perpetually 
calumniating her, and telling him falsehoods to excite 
his jealousy and dislike; but his love still conquered 
his resentment, for more than a year after a second 
visit to Augustus. But Mariamne, proud of her birth, 
indignant at her wrongs, considered not the power of 
^her tyrant, nor the effects of the malice provoked by 
her pride in his kindred. She once reproached him 
for the murther of her brother and her grandfather; and 
his sister, Salome, took this opportunity of sending 
in his cup-bearer to accuse Mariamne of asking his 
assistance to give the king a love potion, bv which, he 
insinuated, she meant to poison him. Her favourite do- 
mestics were put to the torture, who only said the ha- 
tred of their mistress for the king was 'occasioned bv 
something Sohemus had told lier. Herod gave orders 
that Sohemus should be seized and slain immediately ; 
but allowed his wife to take her trial. The judges; 
understanding his will, passed sentence of death uppli 
her; but were of opinion that this sentence should 
not be executed immediately, and that she should 
be put to prison ; but Salome and her party, huvincr 
once caught their enemy in the toils, advised die king 
to put her to death, lest the populace should interfere, 

Accordingly the beautiful and high spirited Mari- 
amne, of whom and of her brother the heathens had 
formerly observed, they appeared more like the chil- 
dren of gods than men, was led to execution. Her 
mother, who was accounted the shrewdest woman in 
the world, and who appears to have had that low 
7 2 c-i.muin 


emitting which stoops to all expedients for interest, 
fearful for her own lite, changed her behaviour, and re- 
proached her as she went. The hapless T\ Viv 
made no answer, nor discovered any disconip, > >e at 
her behaviour, though ashamed of the dissimulat'.o^ she 
shewed. Wearied out with the world, in \vh : :i: she 
iound none to respect or feel affection for, she met 
her fate with unshaken resolution, and without even 
changing colour. After her death, despair and mad- 
ness seized the king; but the remains of his former love 
did not save her children, who, when they came to 
men's estate, fella sacrifice as their mother had done, 
to their own indiscretion, and the malice and calum- 
nies of their enemies. 

Alexandra did not survive her daughter. Hearing 
of the bad state of Herod's health, she tampered with 
the governors of the fortified places round Jerusalem, to 
deliver them into her hands; was betrayed to Herod, 
and slain by his order. 

Antiquities of the jews. 

MARULLA, a young Girl of the hland of Lemnos. 

THE Turks having attacked the capital of this island, 
in the time of Mahomet II. it was defended with great 
vigour; even the women assisting in defence of their 
honours and their religion. Wounded by the stroke 
that had killed her father, she descended from the 
wall, and rushed amidst the enemy with all the vi- 
gour that enthusiasm and despair inspire; she was 
seconded by the garrison, who caught her fury; and 
the next day, when the Venetian general arrived, 
with his fleet, to succour the people, instead of a bat- 
tle he beheld a triumph. The people in their best 
apparel, and the magistrates in their robes of ceremony, 
went to meet him, conducting their fair deliverer. 
Charmed with her heroism, the general commanded 



each soldier to make her a present; promi^cl that sh* 
should be adopted by the republic; and offered he* 
in marriage, any of the captains who accompanied 
him. Marulla replied, It Was not by chance that she 
could chuse a husband; for the virtues of a camp 
would not make a good master of a family, and 
that the hazard would be too great. 

F. C 

MASHAM, (DAMARIS, LADY) bom at Cambridge, 
1658; Daughter of Ralph Cudworth, D. D. an emi- 
nent Divine, Master of Christ's College, Hebrew Pro* 
fessor in the University of Cambridge, and Author of 
The Intellectual System. 

SOON perceiving the bent of her genius, he took 
such particular care of her education, that in the 
early part of her life she was distinguished for un- 
common learning and piety. 

She applied herself with great diligence to the 
study of divinity and philosophy, and had great 
assistance from Mr. Locke, who lived in the family 
many years, and at length died at her house at 
Gates, in Essex, in the year 1704. She was second 
wife to Sir Francis Mash-am, of that place, Bart, 
by whom she had an only sovi, for whom she had 
such a tender regard, that she applied all her na- 
tural and acquired endowments in the rare of his 

Soon after she was married, the celebrated Mr. 
Norris addressed to her, by way of letter, his R**- 
flections upon the Conduct of Human Life, with Refe- 
rence to the Study of Learning and Knowledge: London, 
168.0, 12mo. This began a friendship between them; 
which seemed very likely- to be lasting: but it 
appears to have been in a great measure dissolved 
by the incongruity of his religious sentiments with 

'/ ' Mr. 


Mr. Locke. Not long after (his, lady Mashany, 
(probably under the inspection of Mr. Locke,) wrote 
and published without her name, A Discourse concern- 
'ing the Love of Gvd: 1691, J2mo. which was after- 
wards translated into French by Mr. Coste, 1705. 
&he begins with observing, ""that whatever re- 
proaches have been made by the Romanists on the 
one hand, of the want of books of devotion in the 
church of England, or by the dissenters on the 
oilier, of a dead and lifeless way of preaching, it 
may be affirmed, that there cannot, any where, be 
found so good a collection of discourses upon mo- 
ral subjects as might be made from English ser- 
mons, and other treatises of that nature. , She then 
animadverts upon those who undervalue morality, 
or others who strain the duties of it to an unwar- 
rantable pitch; and afterwards, examines Mr. Nor- 
m's scheme in his Practical Discourses, and other 
treatises; wherein he asserts, "that mankind are 
obliged, as their duty, to love with desire nothing 
but God; every degree of love of any creature 
whatsoever being sinful;" which assertion he defends 
upon this ground, borrowed from Malebranche, 
"that God, not the creature, is the immediate effi- 
cient cause of our sensations; for whatever gives us 
pleasure has. a right to our love." This hypothesis 
is considered with accuracy and judgment by Lady 
Masham, and the bad consequences, as she thought, 
represented in a strong light. 

Whether Mr. Norris ever attempted to support 
what he had advanced, is uncertain ; but Mrs. Astell, 
who had written on the same subject, still conti- 
nued to maintain the same opinion, and replied to Lady 
jVlasham and Mr. Locke, in her book of The 
Christian 'Religion, as professed /;;/ a Daughter of Ike 
Church fif England, to which we refer our reader; 
from perusal of which, and Lady Madam's trea- 


tise, lie will, probably, conceive a very high opi- 
nion of the understanding and piety of each. 

About the year J.7<X), Lady Mashain published 
'* Occasional Thoughts in reference to a Virtuous or 
Christian Life. i<2mo. She complains in it much of 
the great neglect of religious duties, for want of being 
better acquainted with the fundamentals of religion. She 
[v prebends persons of qualify for permitting their daugh- 
ters to pass that part of their youth, in which the 
irrind is most ductile and susceptible of good impres- 
sions, in a ridiculous circle of diversions, which is ge- 
nerally thought the proper business of young ladies; and 
which so engrosses them, that they can find no spare 
hours to improve themselves as reasonable creatures; or 
as is requisite to their discharging well their present or 
future duties; and they so little know why they should 
look upon the Scriptures as the word of God, that 
too often they are easily persuaded out of the reverence 
clue to them as being so; insomuch, that the generality 
are so entirely ignorant of the articles of their faith, 
that they can give no other reason for believing them, 
than that they are commanded to do so ! 

She says further, there is not a commoner complaint 
in every county, than of the- want of gentlemen 
qualified for the service of their country, viz. to be 
executors of the law, and law-makers; both of which 
it belonging to this rank of Englishmen to be, some 
insight into the law which they are to see executed, 
and into that constitution which they are to support, 
cannot but be necessary to their well discharging their 
trusts: nor will this knowledge be sufficiently service- 
able to the ends herein proposed, without some acquain- 
tance likewise with history, politics, and morals'. 

" But, whether we farther look upon such men 
as having immortal souls, Avhich shall be for ever happy 
or miserable as they comply with the terms which tlu-ir 
Maker has proposed to them ; or whether we regard thtiii 
as protestauts, whose birthright it is, not blindly to 

z 4 believe 


believe, but to examine their religion ; or consider them 
only as men, whose ample fortunes allow them leisure for 
so important a study; they are, wiriiout doubt, obliged 
to understand the religion they profess. 

*' It is an undeniable truth, that a lady who is able to 
give an account of her faith, and to defend her reli- 
gion against the attacks of the cavilling wits of the age, 
or the abuses of the obtruders of vain opinions; who is 
capable of instructing her children in the reasonableness 
of the Christian religion, and of laying in them the 
foundations of a solid virtue ; that a lady, I say, no 
more knowing than this demands, can hardly escape 
being called learned by the men of our days; and, in 
consequence thereof, becoming a subject of ridicule to 
one part of them, and of aversion to the other; with 
but a few exceptions of some virtuous and rational 
persons. And is not the incurring the general dislike, 
one of the strongest discouragements that we can have 
to any thing?'* 

As Lady Masham herself owed much to the care 
of Mr. Locke for her acquired endowments, and skill 
in arithmetic, geography, chronology, history, philoso- 
phy, and divinity; as a testimony of her gratitude 
to his memory, she drew up the account of him printed 
in the Great Historical Dictionary, and there said to be 
written by a lady. , 

This appears to have been the last of her performan- 
ces; and she survived the person who was the sub- 
ject of it only three years, dying 1708. She was buned 
in the middle aisle of the Abbey church, at Bath. 

Female Worthies. 

A French poetess, who died 1728. 



MATILDA, Daughter of Baldwin de Lille, Count of 
Flanders, and Wife of William of Normandy, after- 
wards King oj England^ her Relation., 

THE pope granted them absolution for this mar- 
riage, on condition of building two chapels, one 
for men, the other for women. The first was erec- 
ted by the Conqueror, and the last by Matilda. 
She is distinguished for working the famous tapes- 
try in wool, pourtraying the descent upon England. 
The leaders have their different armorial bearings; 
and the vessels also are parti-coloured. It was gi- 
ven by William to his brother Eudes, bishop of 
Bayeux, where it is yet preserved in the cathedral. 
There is a learned explanation of it given by Mr. 
Lancelot, in the 8th vol of Memoircs de F Academic 
des Inscriptions. Her kindness and generosity to her 
eldest son Robert, in some degree recompensed him 
for the coldness of a father who did not love him, 
and who was not a kind husband. 

On the wall of the chapel at Caen (the one erectod 
by William) figures of himself and Matilda were painted. 
In 1700 the chapel was pulled down, but they had 
previously been engraved by Montfaucon. 

Letters on Norman Tiles, by Henniker Major, Esq 

MATILDA, Countess of Tuscany, Daughter* of Boni- 
face, Marquis of Mantua-, died 1115, aged ^ 6. 

HER mother Beatrice, sister of the emperor Henry 
III, after the death of Boniface, married Gazelo, 
duke of Lorrain, and contracted Matilda to Godfrey 
Gibbosus, or Crookback, duke of Spoleto and Tus- 
cany, Gazelo's son by a former marriage. This for- 
midable alliance, made without his consent, alarmed 
Henry, who marched into Italy, and made his sis- 

z 5 ter 


ter prisoner; hoping that, by carrying her into Ger- 
many, he might dissolve the agreement, which gave 
him too powerful a rival in the government of that 
country. He died 10.30, soon after his return ; and 
the young Matilda's husband, in 107(5. She was 
afterwards married to Azo V, marquis of Ferrara, from 
whom she was divorced by the pope,- as she was also 
from her third husband Welpho V, duke of Bavaria, 
whom she married 1088. She parted from him lOPo! 
Dispossessed of her estates by the Emperor Henry 
III, she joined the popes, recovered all her own 
dominions, and dismembered from the empire many 
goodly territories, which, at her death, having had 
no issue, she gave for ever in fee to the see of Rome ; 
which the emperors disputed or resigned, as suited 
their and their adversaries purposes. 

The famous pontiff, Gregory Vllth, whom we 
must now consider as ambitious, insolent, and tyran- 
nical, but who certainly seems to have acted under a 
mistaking sense of duty, arid who undoubtedly was one 
of the greatest men of his age, as, bating his zeal for the 
aggrandizement of the popedom, he is allowed to be 
just and upright, was the friend of Matilda, who looked 
upon him as the first of mankind. When in 1077 the 
emperor Henry IV. was reduced to the character of a 
suppliant, the pope being at Canosa, in the Appenines, a 
fortress belonging to the countess, he remained three days 
in the outer court fasting and praying, before he could 
be admitted to make his submissions to the haughty pon- 
tiff, and then only obtained the favour at the intercession 
of Matilda and her companions. Her attachment to 
Gregory, and her hatred against the Germans (one- of 
whom she considered as her protector, and the other as 
her natural enemy) was so great, that she defended him 
with great heroism, and on her death made over all her 
estates to the apostolic see ; consisting of a great part of 
Tuscany, Mantua, Parma, Reggio, Placentia, Ferrara, 
Verona, and almost the whole of what was called the 


Patrimony of St. Peter, from Viterbo to Omieto, to- 
gether with part of Umbria, Spoleto, and the marqui- 
sateof An co na, 

Fortune, however, changing, the emperor detiosed the 
pope, who died 108.3. His last words, which showed 
that he was deceived in his own character, as well as 
his adherents, were: " I have loved justice, and hated 
iniquity, therefore I die in exile." 

Matilda, who looked on the emperor with aggregated 
detestation, is said, in conjunction with pope Urb.-.n 
II, to have seduced his son Conrad into rebellion against 
his father; and, accordingly, the young prince assumed 
the title of king of Italy ; ^but he soon died. 

Modem History. 


ON the death of Prince William, only son of Henry I, 
i of England, the latter had no legitimate issue, 
except his daughter Matilda, whom lie had betrothed 
when a child to the emperor Henry V. who also dying 
without children, the king gave his daughter to Geoilry 
Piantagenet, eldest son of the count of Anjou, and en- 
deavoured to secure her succession, by having her recog- 
nized heiress to all his dominions; and obliged the 
barons, both of Normandy and England, to swear 
fealty to her. After six years, A. D. 1133, she was de- 
livered of a son, and the king, farther to ensure the suc- 
cession, made all the nobility renew the oath of feally, 
which they had already sworn to her, to her son. 

Matilda was dear to the English,, as being descended 
from their Saxon kings by Matilda of Scotland, her mo- 
ther; and to the Anglo-Normans, as the grand-daughter 
of William the conqueror. Dear as this daughter was to 
Henry, hehad hastened to sacriiicrher in marriage to Geof- 
fry, to whom she had personal repugnance, as her proud 
^.pirit could ill brook the change. The birth of her son was 



preceded by quarrels and reconciliation between her and 
Geoffry, who was of a cold and slow nature. She had 
quitted her husband and followed her father into England. 
Geoffry wished to make Henry purchase the liberty of 
his daughter : he demanded either her or Normandy ; 
and Matilda was sent back to him. A year after Henry 
II. was born, and she had soon two others, Geoilry and 

The joy of this event, and the pleasure of his daugh- 
ter's company, made Henry take up his residence in 
Normandy, the education of her children being his only 
business, where he died 1135, leaving- his daughter heiress 
of all his dominions; and, from the steps which had been 
taken to secure her inheritance, she had reason to expect 
to succeed to both. But the aversion of the feudal 
barons to female succession prevailed over their good 
faith, and made way for Stephen of Blois, grandson of 
William the first, by his daughter Adda, who accord- 
ingly usurped the sceptre. But her uncle David, king 
of Scotland, who at first was a competitor, appeared 
in her defence, 1138, at the head or' a considerable 
army, penetrated as far as Yoikshire, and laid the 
whole country waste. These barbarous outrages en- 
raged the Northern nobility, who might, otherwise have 
been inclined to join him, and proved fatal to Matilda's 
cause. The earl of AlbemarSe, and other powerful no- 
bles, assembled a great army, gave battle to and routed 
the Scots with great slaughter, and their king narrowly 
escaped . 

Stephen, however, believing his throne secure, en- 
gaged in a contest with the clergy ; and Matilda, en- 
couraged by the discontents it occasioned, and invited 
by the malcontents, ' landed in England, accompanied 
by Robert, earl of Gloucester, natural son of the late 
king, and a reiinue of one hundred and forty knights. 
She fixed her residence at Arundel Castle, whose gates 
were opened to her by Adelais, the queen dowager, 
now married to William de Albini, earl of Sussex. 



Her party daily increased ; she was joined by several 
barons : war raged in every quarter of the kingdom, and 
a grievous famine desolated the land. 

But in the year 1141, the royal army was defeated, 
Stephen taken prisoner, and Matilda declared queen; 
but she abused her good fortune by cruel Sy loading him 
with chains in his prison, and when his wife made an 
offer of renouncing the crown, his leaving the kingdom, 
or even retiring into a convent, if they exacted it, to re- 
cover his liberty, she received her with scorn. She had 
indeed reason to be diffident of the oath he offered to 
take, as he had already broken very sacred ones, as well 
as the ties of gratitude. The bishop of Winchester, who 
offered himself as guarantee of these promises, indignant 
at her rigour, turned secretly to his brother ; and the in- 
habitants of London, excited by him, demanded of Ma- 
tilda the amelioration of the tyrannic laws imposed by 
the Norman princes. . This was far less than they had 
exacted from Stephen ; but the hard despotism of her 
forefathers was wedded to her heart, and she refused 
them with firmness. The people gave a cry of indigna- 
tion, and the bishop of Winchester brought forward Eu- 
stace, the son of Stephen, at the head of a party of the 
revolted. They thought to have susprised tier in Lon- 
don, from whence she escaped with difficulty, and where 
her goods were pillaged, and her name covered with op- 
probrium by the populace. They pursued her from city 
to city, and it was only by favour of a thousand dis- 
guises, by undergoing a thousand fatigues, that she at 
last arrived in a place of security. In passing from De- 
vizes to Gloucester, in the middle of a country occupied 
by her enemies, she was obliged to put herself into a 
bier, and be conducted by her guards, disguised as 
priests. During this perilous flight, she was accompa- 
nied by the king of Scotland; but her most faithful 
and valiant defender, Robert, earl of Glocester, wishing 
to retard the pursuers, was taken, and every method 



practised to entice him to leave her partv; but he re- 
mained faithful, and at last was exchanged for Stephen. 
Matilda did not lose hope, when she had recovered her 
champion. She tried to persuade her husband to pass 
the sea to succour her; lie, who had more ambition than 
activity, wished first to confer with the duke of Gioces- 
ter, who would not leave England while Matilda was in 
danger, and perhaps this was what GeofFry wished. 
But after, by his bravery and good conduct^ having a 
little assured the fate of Matilda, he hastened into Nor- 
mandy, to shew Piantagenet the necessity of his coming 
"to head the party of his wife; but this indolent prince 
still alledged excuses, and the earl at last ceased to press 
it, and only demanded his son, which was granted, and 
the young Henry from that moment began his career of 
glory. They found Matilda besieged in the castle of Ox- 
ford by Stephen. But whilst they attempted her deli- 
verance by force of arms, they learned she had escaped. 
Accustomed to disguises and peril, she had imagined a 
new stratagem, which had succeeded. The river was fro- 
zen, the country covered with snow. So rude a season 
made the assailants relax in their vigilance ; Matilda, 
who had remarked it,- went out in the nig lit, dressed in 
white, with four knights who accompanied her; so that 
they could not easily be distinguished. She crossed the 
river,, walked to the town ofAbingdon, from whence 
she was transported to Wallingford. She forgot all 
her perils and fatigues in finding again her brother and 
her son; but her good fortune became soon again incon- 
stant, and the earl of Glocester dying, she was obliged 
to quit England ; from whence her son was also recalled 
by his father. 

"Henry, with whom all seemed to succeed, at length 
came over, and reduced Stephen to the necessity of ma- 
king an agreement, by which he secured the crown during 
his own life, but left the succession to him. It is pre- 
tended that Matilda persuaded Stephen to this treaty, 
in recalling to his mind, in a private conference, that they 



were formerly lovers, and that this Henry, whom he per- 
secuted, was" his own son. There seems, however, lit- 
tle or no room for this supposition. 

The weakness of both parties at last produced a tacit 
cessation of arms, and the empress Matilda retired 
into Normandy. But an event soon happened, which 
threatened the revival of hostilities in England. Prince 
Henry had reached his sixteenth year, and was anxious 
to receive the honour of knighthood from his uncle, the 
king of Scotland.- For this purpose he passed through 
England with a great retinue, and was visited by the 
most considerable of his partizans, whose hopes he 
roused by his dexterity in all manly exercises, and his 
prudence in every occurrence. He staid some time in 
Scotland, where he increased in reputation; and on his 
return to Normandy, was invested with that duchy with 
the consent of his mother. His father died the follow- 
ing year, 11,31. 

Stephen dying soon after, Matilda ceded to her son 
the right of reigning, reserving only that of aiding him by 
her councils. Instructed by experience of the sorrows 
of ambition, and the nothingness of grandeur, she con- 
secrated herself to penitence, virtue, and beneficence. 

She saw through the character of BecUet, and opposed 
the king's making him archbishop of Canterbury. But 
so well known was her probity and knowledge,, that even 
the pope and the archbishop, solicited her mediation in 
their subsequent quarrels; butshe died during the contest. 

She is called by Lyttleton the greatest lady that Europe 
had ever scow, empress of Germany by her first marriage, 
countess of Anjou, Touraine, and Maine by her second, 
and, by the will of her father, duchess of Normandy and 
queen of England. Yet she was more truly great in the 
latter part of her life, when she acted only as a subject, 
under the rei^n of her son, than at the time she be- 
held king Stephen her prisoner, and England at her feet. 
The violence of her temper and pride, m flamed by suc- 
cess, then dishonoured her character, and made her ap- 


pear to her friends, as well as her enemies, unworthy of 
the dominion to which she was exalted : but fronTtlie 
instructions of adversity, age, and reflection, she learned 
the virtues she most wanted, moderation and mildness. 
These, joined to the elevation and vigour of her mind, 
enabled her to become a most useful counsellor and mi- 
nister to her son, in the affairs of his government, which 
for some time past had been her sole ambition. There 
is not in all history another example of a woman who 
had possessed such high dignities, and encountered such 
perils for the sake of maintaining her power, being after- 
wards content to give it up, and, without forsaking the 
world, live quietly in it; neither mixing in cabals against 
the state, nor aspiring to rule it beyond that limited pro- 
vince which was particularly Assigned to her administra- 
tion. Such a conduct was meritorious in the highest de- 
gree, and more than atoned for all the errors of her 
former behaviour. 

Cam den says of her, " She intituled herself empress 
and Augusta, for that she was thrice solemnly crowned at 
Rome, as R. deDiceto testifieth, and Anglomm Domina, 
because she was heir apparent to the crowne of England. 
She was very happy in her poet, who in these two seve- 
ral verses, contained her princely parentage, match, and 
issue : 

Magna ortu, majorqve viro, f>ed maxima partu : 
Hicjacet Henrici jHia> sponsa, parens. 

Great in her birth; greater in her marriage, greatest in her issue ; 
Here lieth the daughter, wife, and mother of Henries, 

Lyttleton's Life of Henry II ; Modern History j 

Riralite de la France et de TAngleterre, . 

Family at Lucca, one of the beat Poets of the 16th 
Century. She was living in 1562. 

HER stile is said to be pure, correct, and full of force 



and elegance; her ideas clear, noble, and ingenious; and 
she particularly excels as a lyrist. Many of her pieces 
are in Rime di direr si Signori Napolitom e d'altri, which 
was printed at Venice, 1500. The same are also printed 
separately. Many others are subjoined to her Letters, 
which were printed at Lucca, lopo. In these she ap- 
pears well instructed in sacred history, and in theology 
in general ; one of them, to her son, contains many use- 
ful maxims for manners and conduct. Her Christian 
Meditations, mixed with very beautiful scraps of poetry, 
and concluded by a fine ode to the Almighty, were also 
printed there. She wrote also a Life of the Virgin 
Mary, in which are many pieces of poetry; others are 
found in different collections- She was well skilled in the 
Platonic philosophy, was generally esteemed by the 
literati of that age, and corresponded with many of 


MAVIA, by Birth a Roman, and educated a Christian, 

WAS forced away by a troop of the Saracens o{ Pharan : 
and presented to Obedien, their prince, who was a Chris- 
tian. From her great beauty, he made hei his wife; and 
upon his death she became sole mistress of the king- 
dom ; and immediately commenced hostilities with the 
Romans, (with whom they were at peace,) put herself 
at the head of her troops, made incursions into Palestine, 
as far as Phoenicia, ravaged the frontiers of Egypt, and 
was engaged in several battles, in which she obtained all 
the glory (A. D. 373, Valentinian, Valens, and Gratian, 
emperors). The commander in Phoenicia demanded 
succour of the general of the Eastern armies, who came 
with a considerable body of troops, and after severely 
taxing the cowardice of the commander, in not being 
able to resist a woman, commenced battle with her 
himself; ordering the commander to stand aloof as a 



simple t spectator; but himself and army were soon 
forced to yield, and would have been cut to pieces, had 
not the Phoenician commander, fbro-ettin- the insult he 
had received, ran tohis assistance, covered his retreat, and 
retired himself fighting, repulsing', and molesting the 
enemy with arrows. As the warlike princess continued 
to obtain all the advantage, the Romans were obliged 
to submit to ask for peace ; to wluch she consented, on 
condition of their sending the anchorite Moses to be 
the bishop of her nation : this was performed, and ido- 
latry destroyed in her kingdom. She maintained a 
strict alliance with the Romans, and gave her daughter 
in marriage to count Victor. 

Histoire du Bas Empire- 

MAYR (SUSANNA), a famous Painter. 

F. c. 

OF), the favourite Niece of Cardinal Mazarin. 

REPRESENTED as one of those Roman beauties, who 
are so far removed from insignificance as to inspire 
respect as well as love. Her eyes were large, neither 
blue, gray nor black ; but partook of all those colours, and 
were very beautiful, expressing with equal force, accord- 
ing to the different feelings of her soul; mild, vivacious, 
penetrating or serious; yet they were not tender: as if 
she was born to be loved, and not to feel it herself 
Her smile was benevolent and her voice sweet and touch- 
ing. She had a tine compaction, and black hair curl- 
ing naturally; she was finely formed, and was the most 
accomplished woman in Europe. St. Evremond says r 
that she knew as much as a man could know, -without 



any appearance of science; that she was without affecta- 

She had an elder sister, that Louis XIV. wished to 
many. But though Hortensia was the youngest, Car- 
dinuf Mazarin chose her to bear his name, and pro- 
posed her in marriage to Turenne, M. de Candales, and 
M. de la Feuillade. The first showed very little incli- 
nation, the second died, and the third quarrelled with 
her uncle. Charles, afterwards the lid. of England, was 
one of her admirers ; but he had then no possessions, 
and was not accepted. After the death of Cromwell he 
offered, and was again refused; but when he was placed 
on the throne, Cardinal Mazarin repented, and proposed 
his niece to him; but. the king, disgusted with his for- 
mer conduct, did not accept the offer. At last, at the 
age of fifteen, she was married to the Duke de la MeiU 
leraye, who was passionately in love with her ; and she 
soon after became heiress to the cardinal, who left her 
twenty millions. 

This young man, whose understanding was capricious 
and contracted, was also superstitious. Once, when he 
Jiad broken with a hammer statues of inestimable value, 
M. Colbert sent by the king, asked him the motive: 
" My conscience," returned he. One day meeting the 
bishop of Noyon, he asked him his blessing, though the 
bishop was in a travelling dress, when it was unusual for 
them to bestow it. He, however, was so importunate, 
remaining on his knees at the foot of the chariot, that the 
bishop impatiently exclaimed, " Well! Sir, since you de- 
sire it so much, I give you my compassion." He soon, 
though without cause, became jealous of the duchess * 
carried her with him from one province to another, 
though she was not in a situation to travel; and seemed 
to take every opportunity of making himself disagreeable 
to her. The door was shut to every body she knew or 
liked; and if a servant happened to please her, imme- 
diate dismission was the consequence. Prohibited of 
every pleasure however innocent, surrounded by a cabal 



who strove to give every word a wrong interpretation, the 
young Hortensia began to despair. She would have borne 
it all, she said, and passed her life in sorrow and confine- 
ment; but when the excessive expences of her husband 
threatened poverty to her son, who would else be the 
richest gentleman in France, she could bear it no longer. 
He took away her jewels, as useless and dangerous 
ornaments. In short, disputes ran so high between them 
that at length she fled to her sister, the countess of Sois- 
sons. Her jewels were then sent to M. Colbert, and 
she staid some time in the abbev De Chelies. There, 
with a young friend of hers, she amused herself with 
childish sports, such as putting ink into the receptacles 
for holy water, &c. Her husband wanted to carry her 
off from this place, but w T as prevented, and after many 
divisions, in which the king interfered, they were in a 
manner reconciled, and lived together. But though still 
passionately fond of her, he interrupted her amusements, 
crossed her wishes, and took every pains to blacken her 
reputation. One of her servants, in consequence, hear- 
ing a calumny against her, drew his sword to revenge it, 
an indiscretion which was illnaturtdly interpreted ; and 
the duchess, who had not admitted the duke lately into 
her presence, heard with affright that she should be^ 
oblige:! to be reconciled. Inexperienced and rash, she 
disguised herself as a man, and, attended by a maid 
servant who had taken the same precaution, followed by 
two valets, she fled from her house, in 1607, and sought 
refuge \s ith her elder sister, in Italy. She soon however 
felt the consequences of her flight, and declared, that 
could she have foreseen the danger she ran, and the slan- 
ders her absence from her husband occasioned, she 
would have preferred perpetual imprisonment and a vio- 
lent death to incurring them. 

After passing some time in a convent, and travelling 
over Italy; after many disguises, voyages, and resolu- 
tions, the duchess, in 1675, passed over to England to 
the duchess of York, who was her relation, and deter- 



rained to remain there the rest of her life. Charles IT. 
granted her a pension, which was continued by James 
II. and William III. who opposed the wish of parliament 
tliat she might leave the kingdom. Her husband was 
continually urging her return, but she would not be per- 
suaded to put herseif in his power. She was much axl- 
mired by the English, but often felt the pressure of 
severe necessity, and died at Chetsea 10'99, aged 53, ha- 
ving passed 30 years in England. Her misfortunes, 
which she attributed to the ingratitude she had shewn to 
her uncle the cardinal, who had done so much for her 
turn liy, taugnt her to be very indifferent to life. Her 
husband survived her many years ; and though, during 
her i ne, he was such a great enemy to superfluous ex- 
penses on her account, he employed immense sums to 
tic:, port her corpse to France and to bury it there. 
Memoirs of Madame cle Mazarin may be seen in St. 
Evremond's and St. Real's works, as well as separately. 

F.C. *c. 

MEDICIS (CATHERINE DE), Niece to Pope Cle- 
ment VII, married Henry, Duke of Orkans, second 
son of Francis, afterwards Henry //, 1533. 

HENRY was then only in his 1.3th year, and ^/hen he 
succeeded to the throne 1547, Catherine was held in 
contempt, not only by him, but also by all those who 
surrounded him ; yet the pliancy of her disposition, and 
her profound dissimulation, at length enabled her to be- 
come the head of a party. By caressing the duchess of 
Valentmois (Diana of Poitiers, mistress to the king, who 
had the most powerful party at court), although she de- 
tested her ; by perpetually flattering the pride, and ask- 
ing the advice of the Constable Montmorenci, whom she 
considered as her greatest enemy ; and by stopping- at 
nothing which could in the smallest degree promote the 
objects which she had in view, she obtained considerable 



favours for herself and partizans; hut during the reign of 
her husband her influence was comparatively small : hi* 
death, which happened in 1559, by a wound he received 
it a tournament, introduced Catherine to the exercise of 
full power. Her son, Francis II, who succeeded, had 
never enjoyed more than a passive existence ; without vi- 
ces, without virtues, pronounced of age by the law, but 
condemned by nature to a perpetual minority, he was 
destined to become a blind instrument in the hand of the 
first person who should take possession of him. 

Under these circumstances, Catherine might justly 
urge her superior pretensions to power; but, as the times 
were turbulent and unsettled, requiring uncommon ex- 
ertions of firmness, prudence, and sagacity, she deemed 
it prudent t associate with her in the administration, 
men of active minds, who should take upon them the 
chief burden of the state. Francis therefore, then six- 
teen, immediately upon the demise of his father, informed 
the parliament, he meant to take the reins of govern- 
ment into his own hands, aided by the advice of his 
mother, and assisted by the experience of the duke of 
Guise, and the cardinal of Lorrain. In endeavouring to 
humble the pride of the Constable Montmorenci, she so 
offended him that he left the court, attended by such a 
numerous train of friends, that his retreat wore the ap- 
pearance of a triumph, and Catherine, though she wished 
to restrain his power, still desired to have kept him in 
the council, to balance the authority of the Guises, of 
whom she soon became apprehensive, lest it might be 
turned against herself; especially as they were supported 
by Mary Stewart, their niece, whose sweetness of tem- 
per and personal charms had given her entire ascendency- 
over her husband. Besides it was her interest to concili- 
ate the different factions : she had therefore recourse to 
the Chatiilons, nephews to the constable, who accepted 
her offers; while all the princes of the blood, who from 
their birth might justly claim a share in the administra- 
tion, were on various pretences excluded, and the Guises 



held 'despotic sway. The duke had secured the attach- 
irfent of the troops, by the repeated proofs he had given 
of skill and courage in the field, while his liberality, 
magnificence, and courtesy endeared him to the people; 
his disposition was moderate, equitable, and intrepid in 
the hour of danger : the cardinal was chiefly indebted 
for his influence to the strength of his oratorical talents 
and religious orthodoxy; but his temper was vindictive, 
choleric and enterprising, too readily elated by success, 
and too easily depressed by defeat. Such were Catherine's 
associates, to whom she looked for support, yet trembled 
lest their excessive power should annihilate her own. 
At first she seemed averse to the dreadful spirit of per- 
secution, which then raged against the Huguenots, and 
even reproved the cardinal for some sanguinary measures. ' 
In the discovery of the Calvinistic conspiracy, which was 
secretly headed by the prince of Conde, she had recourse 
to the advice of the Chatillons (one of whom was the 
Admiral Coligni) who were acknowledged protestants, 
to know what was the occasion of the threatened insur- 
rection, and the best means to be adopted to prevent it. 
Coligni assured her it was from the cruelty of the edicts 
against those who professed to live according to the pu- 
rity of the gospel, and the severity with which they were 
enforced. His observations were attended to, and by their 
united influence, a partial and temporary amelioration of 
those evils took place by means of a more merciful edict; 
she even liberated a great number of the rebels that were 
taken, whom it was supposed had not been privy to the 
plot, but had only wished to force a passage to the throne, 
that they might there present a supplication against the 
usurpation of the Guises, and obtain liberty of conscience. 
At the trial of baron Castelnau, who was taken up in 
the air'air, the noble and christian-like spirit he evinced, 
so struck the queen-mother, that she joined her voice 
with those who interceded in his behalf; but it was in 
vain, for the young monarch, tutored by his uncles, con- 
firmed the sentence of death. The royal family, and all 



the court, attended this and other executions, which 
were performed in the castle yard. Anne of Este, 
duchess of Guise, was the only person who expressed any 
horror at the sight: pale, and trembling, she uttered a 
loud shriek, then quitting the place, ran to her apart- 
ment. The queen-mother paid her a visit, and found 
her in tears : desiring to know the cause of her grief; 
the duchess replied, " Alas! madam, never had mother 
a greater cause for affliction ; what a dreadful storm of 
hatred, biood, and revenge, is now suspending over the 
heads of my unhappy children!" 

The prince of Condc had retired to his own dominions ; 
for though suspected to have been concerned in the plot of 
the Huguenots, it was notcleanv ascertained ; but the Gui- 
ses, wishing to get him and his brother the king of Navarre 
into their power, made use of the meanest and most dis- 
honest artifices to effect it. Catherine united with them in 
exerting all those arts of hypocrisy in which she was so 
eminently versed ; they succeeded but too well, and the 
king and prince too boon repented accepting the deceitful 
invitation, in repairing to court, attended only by their 
usual retinue. On entering the royal presence, they 
found his majesty seated between the duke and cardinal ; 
he received them coldly, and conducted them to the 
apartment of the queen-mother, who on their appearance 
shrieked, and burst into tears. Conde was presently 
apprehended by the king's guards, upon his order; the 
king of Navarre, whose easy credulity had greatly contri- 
buted to reduce his brother to that situation, repeatedly 
called upon the queen-mother to declare whether she had 
not solemnly pledged her word that neither he nor his 
brother should meet with any molestation; biu that 
artful arid perfidious princess refused to answer him. 
The prince of Conde was tried by a commission appointed 
for the purpose; found guilty of leze majeste 3 and con- 
demned to suffer decapitation. The day of his execution 
was fixed at an early period, and the fate pf this gallant 
man appeared inevitable j but the Sovereign Arbiter of 



the world, who baffles the presumptuous hopes of aspi- 
ring mortals, and speaks comfort to despair, had other- 
wise ordained. Whilst the king was attending vespers 
at the Jacobins, he suddenly fainted, and was conveyed 
senseless and motionless to his apartment ; when he re- 
covered his senses, he complained of a violent pain in 
his ears, which was occasioned by an abscess forming in 
his head. Whilst he was dying, the Guises at first me- 
ditated the immediate execution of Conde, but the queen 
concluded an accommodation both with him and his bro- 
ther, on condition that on the king's demise he should re* 
nounce all pretensions to the regency, and submit to a 
reconciliation with the Guises, who she assured him had 
been in no wise instrumental to his imprisonment. He 
was accordingly liberated. 

The king's death, which took place 15(>0, threw the 
whole court into confusion; the crown devolved on his 
brother Charles IX, then only eleven years of age. His 
early years incapacitating him to hold the reins of govern- 
ment,* Catherine, at first, assumed the authority, though 
not the title of regent. But was soon obliged to relin- 
quish a portion of her power to the king of Navarre, 
i>ne of the first princes of the blood. 

The states general were assembled, to adopt some 
measures with respect to the finances, whilst the queen- 
mother strove to secure the attachment of the Huguenots : 
causing letters patent to be issued, whereby the king for- 
bade all his subjects, under the severest penalties, to in- 
sult each other on matters of religion, and ordered all 
those to be released from prison, whose only crime was, 
having attended conventicles, exacting from them a pro- 
mise to live cathuliquement in future; if they would not 
make this promise, they were still to be released, on con- 
dition they left the kingdom in a given time. But tha 
parliament were so far influenced by the spirit of bigotry, 
thvit they at the same time issued an arret, forbidding all 
persons, under pain of death, from holding conventicles, 
or unlawful assemblies ; from buying and selling any book 
A A on 


on religion, without the permission of the court. But the 
death of the king seemed to have suspended the power of 
the Guises, and the presence of the Prince of Conde tur- 
ned the scale in favour of the Huguenots. It had ever 
been the policy of Catherine, to profit hy the animosity 
of two parties, for the augmentation of her power; and 
so to hold the balance tetween them as to prevent either 
from securing a preponderance. Finding her authority 
questioned by the Huguenots, she thought it prudent to 
secure the attachment of their leaders: and accordingly 
applied to Coligni, who from his rank, station, and prin- 
ciples, was justly considered as entitled to have great , 
weight with his party. Unambitious of honours, and 
negligent of rewards, all the admiral required was the 
promulgation of edicts favourable to the religion he pro- 
fessed ; believing that those doctrines, which had made 
such rapid progress in the time of persecution, would 
thrive so fast under the influence of toleration, that the 
Avhole nation would in a few years be induced to adopt 
them, without bloodshed; that the immense riches of the 
Romish clergy might be employed in paying the national 
debts, and in the support of the reformed ministers. Ca- 
therine was easily persuaded, being more anxious to pre- 
serve her rank, and to liquidate the public debt, than to 
maintain the established religion. Moderate measures 
were pursued, and the butchers, even in the time of 
Lent, were allowed to keep their shops open. Though 
Catherine did not dare attend the sermons of the Hugue- 
nots, yet sheallowed the bishop of Valence, who had im- 
bibed their principles, to hold daily conferences with them 
on controverted points in the king's anti-chamber, at 
which she was always present, accompanied by the la- 
dies of the court. Though she at the same time contracted 
a contrary engagement with the cardinal ofLorrain, it 
appears probable she did not mean to fulfil it, as she re- 
tained Theodore Beza, the famous reformer, and his 
companions, near her person, suffering them to preach 
in the precincts of the ralais St. Germain. 



The most dreadful disorders were continually occa- 
sioned by the mutual opposition of the parties. At a 
meeting of the deputies from the different parliaments, 
the queen declared it was the intention, both of herself 
and son, to live and die in the catholic religion ; yet 
edicts were still published to favour the reformed, which 
much enraged the others. Catherine, alarmed at heal- 
ing that a catholic league was forming, to repress the 
progress of heresy, of which the king of Spain was chief, 
sent an ambassador to Philip, to inform him that the 
edicts in favour of the Huguenots displeased her much; 
and that only the critical situation of the kingdom had 
induced her to sanction them with her assent. Philip, 
in his answer, strenuously exhorted her to purge the 
kingdom of those contagious disorders by fire and sword, 
offering her ail the assistance she might want for that 
purpose. But, at the very time this artful princess was 
thus amusing the pope and king of Spain, with profes- 
sions of attachment to the establishment, she carried on 
negotiations with the protestant princes of Germany,, 
urging them to enter into a league, which mi^ht enable 
them to oppose the sanguinary resolutions about to be 
adopted by the Council of Trent, which she represented 
as a conspiracy of all the catholic princes against the pro- 
testants. She well knew, she said, how odious the fa- 
vour she had shewn to those who lived according to the 
purity of the gospel had made her appear to their 
barbarous persecutors; and that she must expect her 
refusal to join in their p'ots would draw their attacks 
upon herself. 

About this time, the king of Spain wrought so oft the 
mind of the credulous king of Navarre, as to engage him 
to forego the principles of the reformation; and, assisted- 
by himself, procure the dismission of the Chatelans,. 
whose places were to be filled by himself and good ca* 
tholics. The queen-mother was very much displeased ;. 
but, being obliged to yield, gave leave of absence to 
Coligni, and his brother the chancellor, and the king 

A A 2 soon 


soon invited the Guises to return to court. Comic 
was at Paris, which was filled with armed men of both 
parties. Catherine and the king had left that city, inten- 
ding to put themselves under the protection of the Hugue- 
noto, who were to conduct them to Orleans. A consi- 
derable body of troops, attended by the king of Navarre, 
secured the king and his indignant mother, under pretence 
of rescuing them from the enterprises of the Huguenots; 
and they were reconducted to the capital. The reformed 
religion was forbidden there, and all the Huguenots tied 
to Orleans, where an association w r as formed, of which 
the prince of Conde was declared protector; they de- 
clared their objects were the liberation of the king and 
queen-mother, and to obtain toleration; they thence 
made proposals, which, though agreeable to the 
queen, were rejected by the council; who prepared 
for war, after constraining the king and queen- 
mother to declare they had come to Paris of their 
own will, and w r ere then at liberty.